slip up to-night… One-man job, eh? A little later? O.K… Office of Gardner Joyce… 2020 Sharon
Building… Wait till I get that straight… Signed contract in the desk drawer… Inner office… Grab it and
wait there for a phone call… That'll be you calling?… No? What's the idea?… I say 'Nothing doing.'… I
see; if I want to have this straight. You've got a fellow fixed to call that number. Right?… Then I just tell
him O.K., if I've found the contract. If I haven't, I say 'Nothing doing'… I see; if I haven't found it, it's
because the contract must be in the safe. I wait there then… Yes, until you show up to crack that box…
Right-o. I'll be ready to grab the phone as soon as the guy calls up… Bring you there if I need you…'
Just as Slips Harbeck sauntered from the inner room, Cliff Marsland was reaching the outer door of the
speakeasy. Slips caught a glimpse of the disappearing figure. He grinned.
There was no doubt about it now; Cliff was an agent of The Shadow. He had probably left to relay his
information to his mysterious chief.
Once again, Slips had bluffed. He was not to go to that office to-night. The whole affair was a blind. Slips
could not figure the game; but that did not worry him. He decided to follow his previous policy; to wait a
few minutes; then leave the speakeasy and double back into his upstairs quarters.
WHILE Slips Harbeck was planning thus, Gawky Tyson arose and left Red Mike's. The furtive little
gangster was accosted in the darkness before he had gone a dozen yards. He saw three men looming
before him. One was Joe Cardona.
'What did you get?' demanded the sleuth, in an undertone.
In quick, breathless tones, the stool pigeon gave the information that he had received. Joe Cardona
grunted and spoke to his men.
'Lay here, boys,' he told them. 'Grab this bird Harbeck as soon as he comes out. You hang across the
street, Gawky. Give the whistle when Slips shows up. Then beat it. I don't want you around.'
'I don't want to be around,' yapped Gawky. 'I'll scram quick enough. They'd get me if they knew I was
tippin' youse guys off.'
Cardona stood a short distance away while his men moved close to the speakeasy. The ace detective
was thinking. He had two objectives to-night. One was the capture of Slips Harbeck; the other was the
spoiling of crime. By taking Slips, he was eliminating the gangster's visit to Gardner Joyce's office.
As Cardona mulled over the situation, he began to take the natural reaction to the details which Gawky
Tyson had obtained. Slips Harbeck had a mission to-night. He was to enter Joyce's office and there
await a telephone call.
If no answer came, the call would probably be repeated. But that would not go on indefinitely. The word
would get to Slips Harbeck's chief that the gangster was not there.
Cardona specifically remembered that Gawky had said the call would come from some one whom Slips
did not know. 'O.K.' would be the answer, meaning that the job was done. 'Nothing doing' would
signify that the contract had not been found.
Then what? Harbeck's chief would arrive! If the police were there when he landed, he could be captured
on the ground! This was opportunity.
Joe Cardona quickly formulated his plan. He needed no help right away. His two men must remain here
to grab Slips Harbeck. That was essential to Cardona's present scheme. It would obviate the possibility
of communication between Slips and the man above.
The detective turned and walked rapidly along the street. His mind was set. He would visit Gardner
Joyce's office in the Sharon Building. He would receive the message and summon Harbeck's chief. There
would be time then to call other detectives and have them stationed outside the office building. They
could follow the visitor in; Joe himself could make the capture.
Cardona reached a side street where his police car was parked. He leaped to the wheel and drove
away. He was confident that his men would do the work at Red Mike's. In this belief, Cardona was right.
AT that very moment, Slips Harbeck was sauntering from the speakeasy. The gangster never reached the
alley where he intended to go. The detectives dropped upon him as they heard Gawky Tyson's low
whistle.
Slips fell under the attack. His mad swing brought a stunning blow to the back of his head. The detectives
dragged him away.
Slips Harbeck was in the hands of the police. No one was the wiser. He was being taken to
headquarters. It was there that Joe Cardona expected to find him later on. The ace detective had planned
well.
Cardona was heading for another goal, satisfied that all would be well tonight. He thought that he knew
all the plans involved. He, alone, could know the situation that existed.
Little did Cardona suspect that Slips Harbeck's plans had been purposely broadcast for listening ears;
that they had been heard by another man than Gawky Tyson. Not for a moment did Cardona suppose
that a man who had sauntered from the speakeasy prior to Gawky's appearance had been an agent of
The Shadow!
Cliff Marsland was performing a duty to-night; and nothing had interfered with him. The situation that lay
ahead was planned as a battle of brains between two master minds — Professor Folcroft Urlich and The
Shadow.
Joe Cardona, confident of his own shrewdness, was nothing more than an unexpected factor that had
come into the field. Unsuspecting, he was entering the battle ground. What would the outcome be?
The answer to that question was coming. It would occur after the ace detective arrived at the office in the
Sharon Building!
CHAPTER XI. THE SILENT OFFICE
THE tiny beam of a little flashlight appeared upon the surface of a glass-paneled door. It revealed the
number 2020. The light swung downward. A concentrated circle shone steadily upon the lock. A
black-gloved hand appeared with a tiny pick of steel.
Deft fingers used the instrument to probe the lock. Under The Shadow's touch, the door of Gardner
Joyce's office yielded. It opened inward and closed. A soft laugh sounded in the darkness.
Finding his way with the shaft of light, The Shadow reached the door of the inner office. He stopped to
make a careful inspection.
All was well. The Shadow entered and let his light range across the desk. The beam showed inkstand,
large blotter pad, calendar, and telephone.
There were no signs of a trap tonight. Why should one exist? At Barnsworth, the intention had been to
take a life. Slips Harbeck and gangsters could not have been summoned there to serve in case the death
snare failed.
Here, in Joyce's office, the intention was theft. Slips Harbeck was coming there alone. Unless The
Shadow knew that the explosive desk at Barnsworth's had been prepared for him, and not the Wall
Street man, he could suspect nothing here. Thus had Professor Folcroft Urlich reasoned.
The inspection of the probing light showed that all was serene. Nevertheless, The Shadow was exacting
as he examined the drawers of the desk. His pick enabled him to open them, and he used his light to
glance through the papers that he discovered. All were arranged in orderly fashion. There was nothing
that resembled a contract among them.
Still, The Shadow waited. It was evident that he, like Cardona, had evolved the plan of luring Slips
Harbeck's chief to this spot. No telephone call had come as yet. The light glimmered on the telephone,
