he came on the morrow. That meant prolonged entombment, with eventual starvation.
THE SHADOW had produced a sheet of paper. On it, he was printing penciled words. A
message—but to whom? Whitburn as puzzled; so was Stephen. Then they watched the
Shadow wad the message into a small packet which he tied with a short piece of stout cord.
A soft laugh. The Shadow turned and advanced to the steel door. Even then, the watchers
did not divine his purpose until they saw him stoop beside the cat that was waiting on the
steps. Quex offered no protest as The Shadow attached the message to the top of a thin
leather collar that the cat was wearing.
Lifting the docile feline, The Shadow carried Quex to the periscope tube. He lifted the cat
and pushed it into the six-inch shaft. Whitburn and Stephen could hear Quex clawing at the
smooth inner surface of the tube.
Holding the cat there with one hand, The Shadow reached to the machine and obtained the
lever, which still had the suction cup in place. He raised the disked end of the rod and used
it to support the cat within the periscope tube. With both hands, he thrust the rod slowly
upward.
Quex was riding up on an improvised elevator. The Shadow could hear the cat clawing and
shifting about. Then the top of the rod reached the ground level. The rod shook slightly as
Quex plopped off the suction disk and landed on solid earth. The Shadow withdrew and
removed the rubber cup.
'Quex will go to the front door!' exclaimed Whitburn. 'Bragg will find him when he returns!
He will read the message! Does it tell him that we are imprisoned here?'
'Yes,' responded The Shadow, in a laughing whisper. 'Bragg will release us. We can wait
until the morning. Commander Dadren is warned. We have no need for immediate escape.
'Let us wait for Bragg. It is important that I see him. For I intend to take his place to-morrow. I
shall go to the address mentioned in the note that our enemy left upon your desk.
'We have air. An attempt to force the steel door is unnecessary. Particularly because I must
see Bragg when he returns. In the meantime, professor, I advise sleep for you and Stephen.'
WHITBURN nodded. He looked about the room and shrugged his stooped shoulders as he
viewed the bodies of the four enemies who had fallen in their fight with The Shadow. Picking
an obscure corner, the old inventor sat down and rested his back against the wall.
Stephen chose another clear place. Stolidly, he watched Whitburn and saw the professor
begin to doze. That was sufficient. Stephen closed his eyes; five minutes later, he was also
asleep through sheer weariness.
The Shadow still stood beside the machine at the bottom of the periscope tube. Immobile,
he had become a living statue. Untired, he had no need of sleep. His keen eyes glistened
as they surveyed the dozing men. A soft laugh rippled from his hidden lips.
After that came silence. Ticking minutes left the scene unchanged. Sprawled bodies on the
floor of this odd chamber; two living men lay asleep in their corners.
And in the center of the stage, The Shadow. Victor of the fray, he had devised a way to
counteract the death trap. He had found a method of informing Bragg that his master was
locked in the submarine room.
Weird master of the scene, The Shadow was planning for the coming day. In the meantime,
spectral and immobile, he was biding the passing hours until dawn.
CHAPTER VII. AT CEDAR COVE
WHILE exciting events had been happening at Death Island, all had remained quiet at
Cedar Cove, the spot where Commander Joseph Dadren had established his headquarters
for submarine experiments.
Located on the Carolina coast, Cedar Cove was an ideal place for tests of the sort that the
commander was making. Five miles from the nearest town, isolated amid a forest of pine
trees, the cove was obscure and unfrequented.
Moreover, it was suited to secrecy. A single channel connected the cove with deep water.
On the innermost shore of the cove was a chasm between two low ledges of rock. This
formed a natural inlet wherein Commander Dadren housed his undersea craft.
Less than thirty feet in width, the cleft between the cliffs had been boarded over and topped
with a boat house. The entrance to the inlet was protected by heavy, doorlike screens which
could be raised and lowered.
Dadren's experimental craft was a small one. It remained undercover except when the
commander employed it for tests. Four men were constantly on duty in the boat house.
These were trusted aids, chosen from petty officers who had seen service in the United
States Navy.
Near the boat house was the building that served as headquarters. This was a
square-shaped structure, one story in height. It formed a type of blockhouse, with an inner
court. Windows on the outside were protected by heavy bars; those on the court had
crisscrossed screens of stout wire.
The main hall of the headquarters house was a sort of clubroom where Dadren's workers
congregated. Off the hall were doors that led to smaller rooms. Some of these were quarters
for the men. Others were testing rooms that opened from side corridors.
At the rear was a large room that served as Dadren's laboratory. It had a steel door
connecting with an inner office. The little room was windowless.
A score of men constituted Dadren's crew. On this night some had retired; others were on
duty at the boat house. The rest, half a dozen in all, were gathered about the big fireplace in
the front section of the main hall.
Two solemn-faced men were acting as patrol. Together, they made the rounds of the square
house, while the others sat and chatted at the fireplace. A radio, turned down, was furnishing
a melodious musical program.
AMONG the men seated in the main hall was a quiet, watchful individual, less talkative than
his companions. This chap was Commander Dadren's secretary. He had been
recommended to the confidential post through Professor Arthur Whitburn. There was a
definite reason for the professor's recommendation. The secretary's name was Harry
Vincent. He was an agent of The Shadow.
Harry was speculating as he sat before the fire. He was thinking of the events that had
brought him here. Once—it seemed very long ago— Harry had aided The Shadow in giving
protection to Professor Whitburn. Following that episode, The Shadow had kept in
occasional contact with the old professor, through Harry.
One month ago, Harry had paid a visit to Death Island. There, he had learned of
Commander Dadren's experiment. Harry had reported to The Shadow. New contact had
followed with Whitburn. Through the old professor, Harry had gone to Dadren's headquarters
to take the job of confidential secretary.
Passing weeks had given Harry no inkling of impending trouble. Commander Dadren's
methods seemed airtight. None of his subordinates knew the full extent of his inventions.
Moreover, they were paired when they worked, so that no man could attempt any
surreptitious action without being observed by a companion.
The only weak point was the fact that Dadren had finished the extensive plans of his
completed submarine. Those plans were somewhere in his inner office; and every man at
