obtained information of a different sort.'
'Which is -'
'That both Forster and Guthrie were concerned in some enterprise which caused them to deal with you—an enterprise that also involved the New Era Mines.'
'Where did you receive such information?' questioned Partridge coldly.
'Through my intended purchase of stock in the New Era Mines,' responded Cranston. 'There I learned of certain negotiations upon which the success of the mine depended.
'Forster evidently had contracts and other documents. These were not found after his death. However, I was able to trace a connection with Guthrie and one with yourself. That is why I have come to see you; in the hope that you can tell me all the details.'
'Mr. Cranston'—Partridge's eyes were gleaming in a friendly manner— 'there was a slight connection between both of those men and myself. I have not made the fact public, because our slight negotiations were intended to be kept private.
'Here, in my laboratory, I have made experiments in the refinement of gold. Lawrence Guthrie learned of it. He included Clifford Forster to consider taking an interest in those experiments. Our friendships were in the making. Clifford Forster visited me here, some time before he died. Lawrence Guthrie also called to see me on occasions.'
'Did he come here after Forster's death?'
'I am not sure'—Partridge was speculative—'indeed, I scarcely think so, Mr. Cranston.'
'I must tell you an important fact,' said Cranston, in a kindly tone. 'Lawrence Guthrie was suspected in the death of Clifford Forster. Hence Guthrie's death has caused much comment.'
A look of vague understanding seemed to trouble Lucien Partridge. Noting it, Lamont Cranston hastened to add further remarks.
'Knowing that your name was connected with both men,' he resumed, 'I thought it best to call on you—to learn if, by any chance, either of these two had ever evidenced an enmity for the other.'
'You are a police official?' quizzed Partridge.
'No,' asserted Cranston, 'I am merely a financier who is interested in the success of mining enterprises.
Due to my proposed purchase of New Era stock, I am naturally concerned with the underlying affairs of that company.
'I have discovered traces of facts that I have told to no one. Indeed, there is no connection whatever between myself and either Guthrie or Forster.
'I came from New York last night. I registered at the Westbrook Inn under an assumed name. I do not want my presence here to be known to any one. I waited until evening to call on you.
'After dining at the hotel, I was taxied here. I must go back to the inn to get my luggage and leave on the late train for New York. But I was desirous of making your acquaintance, for the reasons that I have mentioned.'
'I understand,' nodded Partridge. 'Well, Mr. Cranston, time is too short for us to discuss these matters now. If you had come earlier in the evening— but it is nearing midnight. If I were sure that you alone knew of Forster's connection with Guthrie -'
'I alone know that fact,' interposed Cranston.
'Then,' continued the old man, 'I might be able to do something for you. Could you arrange matters so that you could return here—say within a week or ten days?'
'Gladly, Mr. Partridge.'
'That would be excellent. You must allow me time to consider matters; to locate correspondence which I had with Guthrie and Forster. Say nothing about this matter until you hear from me.'
LAMONT CRANSTON arose and bowed. He extended a card that bore his name and address.
Vignetti entered and aided the guest to don his coat and hat.
'I left the car waiting outside with the driver,' explained Cranston. 'So I shall leave you now.'
'One moment, Mr. Cranston,' remarked Partridge hastily. 'You have time to see my laboratory. It is only a few steps away.'
He led the way, with Cranston and Vignetti following. The shadows of the three merged; but that cast by Cranston seemed to obliterate the others as they entered the lighted laboratory.
Partridge spoke to Vignetti; the Corsican obtained his master's smock, and brought a pair of gloves from the rear section of the table drawer.
'An excellent laboratory,' commented Cranston, gazing about him.
'Yes,' replied Partridge, as he donned the smock and pulled on the gloves. 'I always experiment at night.'
'Then I shall bid you good night,' said Cranston courteously, as he turned toward the door.
'I shall go with you to the car,' offered Partridge.
Cranston, tall and imposing, preceded Partridge across the hallway and along the walk to the iron gate.
As Partridge spoke to him, Cranston did not appear to hear the old man. He kept on and reached the car. Partridge, with Vignetti at his heels, hurried to the open window of the sedan.
Lamont Cranston pushed a package aside. He lifted something from the seat beside him. Lucien Partridge, wishing him good speed, could not see his hands in the dark until the moment came for the final parting.
'Good night,' said the old man, extending his gloved hand, just as Cranston ordered the driver to proceed.
'Good night,' responded Cranston, as he reached to accept the clasp.
A curious smile was creeping over Partridge's features as he extended that fatal hand, which bore the poisoned powder upon its glove. The clasp was made, unnoticed by the driver. Suddenly the car shot forward; Partridge was forced to release his clutch. He stepped back, to catch a glimpse of Cranston leaning from the car, waving a belated good-by.
A sharp oath came from Lucien Partridge's lips. The cry was echoed by a growl from Vignetti. For in that last flash, Partridge had seen something which he had not noticed during the handclasp.
He knew now why Lamont Cranston's hands had not been visible in the car. The discovery made him wild with rage. Upon entering the sedan, Cranston had donned a pair of long black gloves!
Partridge's handshake that bore the creeping death had gone to naught! Glove had met glove. Lamont Cranston—otherwise The Shadow— had frustrated the shrewd purpose of the fiend!
CHAPTER XVII. THE SHADOW ON THE CLIFF
A TREMENDOUS fury had possessed Lucien Partridge. He realized that he had been thwarted by a man whose subtle craftiness was more potent than his own.
Not an irate word; not the semblance of a threat had passed between him and Lamont Cranston. The old man had intended to send forth another unsuspecting victim. Instead, Cranston had outwitted him; yet, in turn, had left no evidence that he had suspected the old man's design.
Partridge was in a quandary. Was Cranston merely a chance visitor, who knew no more than he had said? Or was he a shrewd investigator who had come to learn the secret of Partridge's application of the creeping death?
In view of their conversation, the first surmise must be correct. But, instinctively, the old man sensed that Lamont Cranston had come to learn one single fact; that forewarned, he had been forearmed.
In either case, it would be dangerous for this man to live. Knowing of Forster's connection with Guthrie, and the double connection between those men and Partridge, Cranston was a menace to the old man's schemes. Either unwittingly or by design, he could spoil Partridge's mighty dreams of life, death, and wealth.
Something must be done to intercept him before he could manage to leave Westbrook Falls.
Fitzroy—Forster—Guthrie—Armagnac—none of these compared with Cranston as a danger. Turning, his face still livid with rage, Partridge spied Vignetti. His wild expression became an insidious sneer.
'Vignetti!' he exclaimed. 'This is your chance to-night. Remember Li Tan Chang! That man who has gone'— Partridge pointed down the road - 'take him as you took the old Chinaman. Death! By the knife!
