BREATHING in long heaves, Jocelyn watched and listened. The Shadow's ominous voice droned the
letters of the alphabet. One by one they came until the letter 'U.'
At that point, a change occurred in Jocelyn's expression. With all his might, the dying man did his best to
prove that The Shadow had reached the important letter. The glow and barely visible motion that showed
in the financier's eyes caused The Shadow to stop.
Without hesitation, the black-cloaked watcher began another intonation of the alphabet. Jocelyn, stiff as a
corpse, still heard and watched with glaring eyes. His effort, this time came upon the letter 'R.'
The third recital by The Shadow ended with the letter 'L.' Once again, The Shadow noted Thomas
Jocelyn's supreme effort to aid in the gaining of the name.
'A' — The Shadow's whisper came slowly—'B — C — '
A noise sounded from the front door of the apartment. Some one was pounding there. The Shadow did
not stir. His voice kept on its low drone:
'— D — E—F — '
Men were crashing at the barrier. The Shadow watched Jocelyn's eyes with steady, focused gaze. His
voice recited the letter 'I.' The sign came from Jocelyn.
'A — B—C — ' The Shadow stopped on the third letter. He had gained another signal. Pandemonium was
breaking from without. The door was yielding to crashing blows. With total disregard for the attack, The
Shadow began a new series of letters.
'H.' As The Shadow named that letter, Jocelyn's eyes glimmered with dying frenzy. The Shadow stood
with folded arms, oblivious to the fact that voices were sounding through the half-broken outer door.
'Urlich,' announced The Shadow.
Jocelyn's intake of breath paused. The financier emitted a tremendous gasp. His eyes were fixed in a
hypnotic stare. The man was at the verge of death; but the mention of that name gave him a last burst of
strength.
'Urlich,' repeated The Shadow. 'I know his name. I shall meet him soon!'
The outer door came down with a terrific, loud smash. Hoarse shouts resounded as men tumbled into the
apartment. The commanding voice of Joe Cardona sounded above them.
'Hold it, men! Hold it! There may be some one in that inner room!'
The Shadow's eyes were still upon Thomas Jocelyn. The dying financier no longer moved. His whole
form was rigid, as though petrified by the final effort of hatred. A hissing sound sizzled through those
drawn lips. The face now dead, was ghastly.
Thomas Jocelyn's prolonged strain had brought a sudden end to his sighing death. No longer did he
exhale fumes that menaced all who might approach. The venomous potion's power was exhausted.
The Shadow's cloak swished, and its spreading folds revealed a crimson lining. With swift stride The
Shadow was turning toward a door at the end of the room. He reached it while the detectives were
approaching from the outer room.
The door closed behind The Shadow's departing form. Moving through the darkness of a smaller room,
The Shadow gained a window that opened into a courtyard. A few moments later, a weird, phantom
form was moving slowly down the wall of the building.
IN the meantime, a squad of men suddenly burst into the lighted room where the two dead bodies lay.
Detective Joe Cardona, his swarthy face grim and his sharp eyes moving quickly, surveyed the inert
forms of Thomas Jocelyn and the pretended servant, Grewson. Cardona saw that they were dead.
'Try that door over there,' he ordered.
Two detectives followed the direction that The Shadow had taken. They reported that the next room was
empty. Cardona ordered a thorough search.
While his men were busy, he studied the bodies more carefully. Swift, silent death had struck here
to-night.
While Cardona was awaiting the arrival of the police surgeon, another officer suddenly appeared at the
door of the room. It was Detective Sergeant Mayhew. Cardona saw that the man was bringing important
news.
'Gawky Tyson has been killed!' announced Mayhew. 'They ganged him down at Red Mike's!'
'Yes?' questioned Cardona. 'Why?'
'Some one passed the tip that he was a stool pigeon. That was the end of him. The killers made a
get-away. Not much chance of trailing them. But listen, Joe — I found out something important. Larry
Ricordo was there tonight.'
'At Red Mike's?'
'Yes. Red Mike admitted it. Says that Ricordo talked over the telephone and — '
'That proves it!' interposed Cardona. 'It proves my hunch, Mayhew. When word came down to
headquarters that there was trouble here, I came up to this place myself. I figured Larry Ricordo might be
in it.
'Gawky probably got the lay and was going to tip us off, like he did the other night, when he watched
Slips Harbeck. Larry Ricordo is in back of this, Mayhew. It's murder this time; double murder!'
Cardona picked up the telephone and called Inspector Timothy Klein. The detective was anxious to
release all possible mechanisms that would aid the law in a widespread effort to capture Larry Ricordo.
Through radio patrol, the order would go out to arrest all suspects who might prove to be the wanted
gang leader.
THE arrival of the police surgeon brought new food for thought. The appearance of the dead men was
perplexing to the physician. He pointed to the bodies as he gave the detective a temporary explanation.
'This one' — the surgeon indicated Grewson—'appears to have succumbed quickly to the effects of
some poison fumes. The other' — the doctor motioned toward Jocelyn—'was given poison in a liquid
state. His death was prolonged. He must have been alive up to the time you entered.'
Joe Cardona stared at the pitiful form of Thomas Jocelyn. He noted the sealed lips thin and drawn in
death.
What could those lips have said? What could Jocelyn have known?
Cardona regretted that he had not arrived in time to question the dying man. Little did the ace detective
realize that had he been there to make such a quiz, it would have meant his own demise!
The glassy eyes of the dead financier were toward the ceiling. Their vacant stare was eloquent. They
showed the traces of a fury that made Cardona continue to wish that he could have heard Jocelyn's last
words. That was impossible now. No one had heard them, Cardona decided.
The detective was correct in his assumption; but as he studied Jocelyn's lips again, he forgot the dead
man's eyes. Cardona did not realize that where lips had been futile, eyes had managed. Cardona would
have been amazed had he known that Jocelyn's eyes had aided in the delivery of a final message.
Larry Ricordo! The gang leader was the man that Joe Cardona wanted. The detective's thought did not
go beyond; Cardona had not yet reached the stage of searching for a supermind higher than Ricordo.
Such consideration had been undertaken only by The Shadow. He was the one who had looked beyond
Larry Ricordo. The Shadow, ignoring Jocelyn's dying words, incoherently gasped amid exhalations of
deadly fumes, had gained the name he sought.
