'He's groggy,' replied Marquette. 'Somebody must have doped him. He was half out when I found him.
I've got to go back to him now.'
'But the man who -'
'The fellow who trapped you and the girl downstairs? He's gone. Must have taken the little motor boat
we keep under the dock. I've heard all about him. This young lady told me the story.
'I saw the torpedo floating over to the shore, I went over to investigate, and found her. But what I'm
trying to figure is who doped out that combination and opened the door to let you out of -'
'There's only one man who could have done that,' said Harry weakly. 'Only one man -'
'The Shadow!' exclaimed Marquette.
Harry Vincent nodded.
CHAPTER XXX. BEFORE THE MEETING
FOUR days had passed since the eventful happenings at Death Island.
Vic Marquette had revealed his identity to Professor Whitburn, as soon as the old man had recovered,
the next morning.
The loss of the plans had been discovered.
Professor Whitburn had decided to rest from his labors. He had wired his sister to come and take care of
his house, while he recuperated.
Harry Vincent and Arlette DeLand had remained as his guests. Now that the enemy had left, the island
was a safe place for Arlette, and the best spot for Harry Vincent to recover from his injuries.
Marquette had taken charge of affairs long enough to arrange for one of the men from the village to take
a job as handy man; and he had also obtained some other servants.
The house was transformed from an experimental laboratory to a country home.
But Marquette had left immediately afterward. He had received a message brought by Bruce Duncan.
When he had read its contents, he had started immediately for New York, leaving Duncan to keep Harry
Vincent company.
No one but the secret-service man knew the contents of that note. It had come, indirectly, from The
Shadow, and it had proposed certain plans that pleased Vic Marquette.
The message had disclosed facts which the government man had not known; and he was raised from the
depths of gloom. He had promised to cooperate by following the instructions which were given him.
It was now the night set for the Red meeting. A man, alone in a dark room, was working at a table above
which hung a shaded lamp. His hands were sorting papers of various sorts, in an effort to find the solution
to pressing perplexities.
Chief among these papers were reports from Vic Marquette. The secret-service agent had made every
effort to trace the man who had vanished with the important plans of Professor Whitburn's inventions.
Marquette had been informed that the man had probably left the country; but with all the power that he
had at his disposal, he had been unable to track the mysterious thief.
Another report was from Burbank. This man, a valuable worker for The Shadow, had been watching
Prokop's apartment. He had seen Prokop leave the apartment; he had observed another man enter and
leave, a few hours later. Those events had taken place on the same night that the Red Envoy had
appeared at Death Island. Since then, Prokop had not returned home.
The hands began to write beneath the light:
Prokop left a note for the Red Envoy. It was the Red Envoy who entered and left the apartment, a few
hours later. He must have flown from Connecticut by plane.
Despite the fact that Marquette has obtained no results, the inference is obvious. The Red Envoy sailed
for Europe on the Dresden. He will reach Cherbourg day after to-morrow.
Prokop had all passage arrangements in readiness. He left the apartment after receiving a long-distance
call from the Red Envoy.
When the latter reached New York, he went to Prokop's to pick up the information. Burbank saw him
arrive and leave.
Prokop is playing a safe game. He is hiding until the meeting to-night. He is the only man who knows the
Red Envoy's plans. He took all incriminating documents from his apartment. A brief search has revealed
nothing.
There is one sure way to trace the Red Envoy's route. Once in Europe, he will be comparatively safe.
Prokop made the arrangements. Prokop must be made to tell them, unless—
The hand paused, then added:
Unless a final search unearths a clew.
The hands opened a large envelope, and brought out time-tables of European railways. These came
under a careful perusal. Then the hand wrote:
Air routes are quickest across Europe; but passengers are too easily observed. Red Envoy will probably
travel by rail. This must be confirmed. Taking Prokop alone is bad enough; raid on meeting would be
worse. Might not get all.
Then came a few vague suggestions, written, crumpled, and tossed away, as though the brain behind the
hands was searching for tangible ideas.
Finally the hand prepared a schedule, compiled from the railway guides. The single word: 'Confirm' was
written at the top. The paper was folded between the hands. The light was extinguished.
Approximately one-half hour later, a man walked leisurely up the street by the apartment house where
Prokop lived. He disappeared outside the building.
A few minutes later he was in Prokop's apartment. He was invisible there; only his flashlight betrayed his
presence. He was searching, with infinite care.
His hand showed white beneath the light, as it discovered a small pad wedged behind a desk drawer.
The ray of the flashlight was centered on the pad. The fingers of the hand touched the surface of the top
sheet of paper. Then the hand disappeared.
It came back, holding a small phial, filled with a black powder. It sprinkled the powder on the paper, and
rubbed it into the surface.
Faint traces of writing appeared when the powder had been brushed away. The letters were followed by
numbers. They gave the names and times of railway trains. The hand appeared with a folded sheet of
paper, and opened it. A careful comparison was made.
The schedule which The Shadow had prepared by careful reasoning corresponded exactly with the one
that he had found.
Prokop had written the list on the pad. He had torn off the top sheet. The impression had remained on
the pad, which had dropped behind the desk drawer, when Prokop had put it away.
The Envoy had taken the actual list; the clew had remained.
The hand wrote on the list which had been prepared by deduction. It inscribed a single word: 'Correct.'
The figure disappeared from Prokop's apartment.
SOME thirty minutes later, a shadowy form approached the front door of Prince Zuvor's residence. The
shape was invisible in the darkness. It seemed to melt against the shadow of the door; then the door
opened slowly and closed again.
The hallway was dark within. Persons on the street could not have seen the strange action of the door.
