The cloak swished slightly as The Shadow swung across the room. He opened a door. The light showed
a small room, evidently intended as a bedroom, but equipped with desk, table, and chairs. There was a
lamp suspended above the desk in the corner. The Shadow pressed the switch.
THE illumination was thrown directly on the desk. There, beneath the lamp, rested an envelope, The
hand of The Shadow reached forward. The black fingers carefully approached the envelope to lift it with
exactitude.
They stopped suddenly, and one finger touched the surface of the desk. This time there was no smudge
of dust.
Wheeling, The Shadow moved to the table in the corner of the room. His tiny flashlight threw its
silver-dollar beam upon the wood. A finger touched the table and made a slight smudge.
The flashlight disappeared. The black gloves peeled away. Long, white hands, with tapering fingers,
came in view. Upon a finger of the left hand glistened a strange gem that glittered with amazing hues as
the hands came beneath the light above the desk.
The Shadow seated himself. He produced pen and paper from beneath his cloak. He rested the paper on
the desk, away from the envelope beneath the lamp. The left hand was still. The jewel sparkled in mystic
colors.
Deep crimson; then flashing purple; finally a dull, changing blue— these were the shades of light from the
strange stone. This gem was The Shadow's girasol, a variety of fire opal. It seemed to glow with the life
of an undying ember, flashing forth sparks of light. Like the eyes that watched it, this talisman symbolized
mystery.
The eyes of The Shadow studied the desk. They roved to the table. They glanced into the outer room.
Hidden lips laughed softly. That sound, despite its gentleness, was sinister. It seemed like the mirth of a
being from another world — an uncanny, foreboding tone that human lips could not have uttered.
Sighing, whispered echoes made the laugh still live as they responded from the walls. A horde of invisible
demons had seemingly responded to their master. The right hand of The Shadow moved, inscribing
words that were written thoughts.
Scratches on the lock. Some one has entered.
Dust on the tables. The owner has been absent.
No dust on the desk. It does not correspond with other furniture. It has been inserted since the owner's
departure.
The writing was in bright-blue ink. It remained for several seconds; then, letter by letter, word by word, it
disappeared. No traces remained upon the blank sheet of paper. Pen and paper disappeared. Once
again, The Shadow laughed.
THERE was a telephone beside the desk. It was resting on a book. The Shadow picked up the
directory, and found the number of J. Wesley Barnsworth.
The name was listed twice: a business address in Wall Street; the residence at Langley Court. The latter
number corresponded with the one on the telephone itself.
In the front of the book, The Shadow found a list of names and telephone numbers evidently persons
with whom Barnsworth had close acquaintance or business associations. The Shadow picked two
names— one from the top of the list; the other from the bottom. The one at the top was Joseph Harrison;
the one at the bottom was that of Graham Gorson.
Placing the phone at the extreme corner of the desk, The Shadow dialed the number of Joseph Harrison.
A voice responded. The hidden lips of The Shadow spoke in an ordinary tone, rather briskly and away
from the mouthpiece.
'Hello… Is this Mr. Harrison?… Mr. Joseph Harrison?… I am Graham Gorson — friend of Wesley
Barnsworth…'
The receiver crackled as the man at the other end made his reply:
'Hello, Mr. Gorson… Yes, I remember you. Wesley introduced us at the Raffle Club… Surely. What can
I do for you?'
'I am anxious to get in touch with Mr. Barnsworth,' came The Shadow's assumed tones. 'I have not
been able to reach him…'
'Don't you know that he went to Florida?' inquired Harrison, over the wire. 'He's been gone ten days
now.'
'I knew he intended to go,' answered The Shadow, 'but I was not sure when he planned to leave. I shall
have to wait until he returns.'
'That will be nearly a month,' informed Harrison. 'Sorry I don't have his address, Mr. Gorson. If you call
his office…'
With call concluded, and book and telephone replaced upon the floor, The Shadow arose and stood
beside the desk. His keen eyes had detected scarcely noticeable factors that had warned him of hidden
danger. The telephone call had assured him that this apartment had no occupant at present.
Some mystery lay here; and The Shadow knew that it centered about the envelope upon the desk which
did not belong to this room.
Moving into the living room, The Shadow plucked a thin book from a trough beneath a side table. He
carried it into the small room, and set it upon the envelope.
Holding the book with one hand, The Shadow raised it imperceptibly; with his other hand, he whisked
the envelope out from beneath the book, which he left upon the desk.
The deft fingers carefully peeled open the flap, so neatly that the envelope remained intact. From within,
they drew a heavy folded paper. Spread out, the paper revealed nothing. It was blank.
The Shadow replaced the paper and put it in the envelope. He did not seal the wrapper. He merely
inserted the envelope beneath the book, and worked it neatly back into place. Carrying the book to the
place where it belonged The Shadow returned to the desk.
THE black gloves slipped over the white hands. A tiny reel came from beneath The Shadow's cloak. The
gloved hands stretched out a length of thread from within the reel. The fingers dabbed the end of the
thread upon the envelope. It remained there, thanks to a tiny button coated with a sticky wax.
The Shadow moved across the room, paying out thread as he drew away. He reached the living room
and closed the door behind him. The reel was close to the floor; the thread passed beneath the door. A
draw upon that thread would pull the envelope from the desk.
Holding the reel and standing close beside the wall, The Shadow pressed a knob in the center. The
thread responded, drawing rapidly inward as a spring was released within the reel. This action caused a
startling effect in the closed room beyond the door.
Simultaneously with the withdrawal of the envelope, a mighty, sighing puff sounded on the other side of
the barrier. It was a gigantic, muffled gasp that made the door quiver and shift outward; then inward. The
sound of tinkling glass followed.
That was all.
The Shadow opened the door. The little room was no longer illuminated, but its interior was vaguely plain
