opportunity to pass him the envelope. They had worked the stunt before.
BACK in the apartment, Stollart had returned to the office. The secretary's face showed
tenseness. Stollart was holding letters in his hand; he intended to tell Harry Vincent that he
was going out to mail them. But Stollart saw no sign of Harry.
Quickly, the secretary crossed the room. Seating himself by the desk, he called a number.
He knew that it was a pay booth in the Union Station. Some one was supposed to be on
hand to receive the call.
A ringing sound; then came a voice that Stollart had heard before, although he did not know
the speaker. It was Marling. He spoke a key-word that Stollart understood. Lips close to the
receiver, Stollart gave the news.
'All set,' he whispered hoarsely. 'They fell for it... The time for the deal will be Wednesday
afternoon, right after two o'clock. Vincent will be out. For an hour. Navy Department... No,
nothing important... Yes, he'd probably recognize Dadren... I'll be ready...'
Stollart dropped the receiver abruptly and moved over toward the filing cabinet. He had
heard the sound of a closing door. A few moments later, Harry Vincent sauntered into the
office. Harry had passed the report to Cliff. He had arrived too late, however, to catch
Stollart telephoning.
It was not long before Vic Marquette returned. Senator Releston came in later. The vigil had
begun. From now on, those in the know would await the promised arrival of Commander
Joseph Dadren.
Harry Vincent was satisfied. He had sent word to The Shadow. His report, though brief, had
missed no point.
But Harry Vincent was not the only one of the four watchers who felt that he had played an
important part. Stollart, the smug secretary, had also passed the word along. Another of Eric
Hildrow's traitors, Stollart had paved the way for the master plotter's coming stroke.
CHAPTER XVII. THE SHADOW LAUGHS
NIGHT. A light was glowing in the room of Henry Arnaud. But the occupant of that room was
not in view. The light came from a table lamp that held a heavy shade. The only sphere of
illumination lay beneath the lamp itself.
Hands appeared beneath the light. Long, white hands, with fingers that moved like detached
creatures. Upon one finger glittered a resplendent gem: The Shadow's girasol. That jewel
was the only token of identity that The Shadow wore.
Temporarily, this Washington hotel room had become The Shadow's sanctum. Here, The
Shadow was analyzing the purpose that lay behind the letter from Commander Dadren. The
Shadow had read Harry Vincent's report in its entirety.
Pen and paper beneath the light, The Shadow was inscribing written thoughts in ink of vivid
blue, that faded as soon as it had dried. This was The Shadow's method. His keen
deductions came readily from the moving pen.
Unlike Senator Releston and Vic Marquette, The Shadow was finding a catch in the terms
which Commander Dadren had suggested. He knew that the letter had been dictated. He
was looking for the ideas that lay behind it.
$25,000
The Shadow's hand inscribed the sum required. A soft laugh sounded from the gloom above
the lamp. The Shadow could see the reason for the sum specified. Eric Hildrow—the man
whose identity was yet unknown to The Shadow —had chosen that amount with a purpose.
He had picked the highest sum at which he thought Senator Releston would not balk. It was
not the money that he sought. The amount would be trivial to so masterful a plotter. Man of
murder that he was, Eric Hildrow would have decided to kill Dadren rather than let him go at
so low a price.
Agreement
The single word appeared from The Shadow's pen. It told what lay behind Hildrow's
scheme. By getting Releston's accord, by lulling the senator to a belief that Dadren might be
released, the plotter had forestalled Releston's intention to notify the press.
Informant
Again, The Shadow laughed. How had the unknown plotter discovered that Releston was
about to spread the news? Why had he acted at the most crucial moment? There could be
only one answer: A spy in Releston's camp.
Stollart
The Shadow inscribed the name upon the blank space from which the preceding word had
faded. Polmore had been close to Professor Whitburn. Hasker had been Commander
Dadren's most trusted mechanic. It was obvious that Stollart was the only man in a position
to watch Senator Releston as closely as the master plotter required.
A pause. Then The Shadow's hand moved again. Slowly it inscribed two words; they told in
brief, the substance of Hildrow's game. They announced the only stake that the crooked
plotter could be after.
The plans
THE SHADOW'S deduction was well-calculated. He had noted an important item in Harry
Vincent's report. That was the fact that Dadren's letter had specified that the commander
would return bringing the 'duplicate plans.'
A crafty statement. The plotter had used it to fool Dadren. It had deceived Vic Marquette as
well. The Secret Service agent thought that the enemy had gained no inkling of the purpose
which Dadren's tracings were designed to serve.
But the Shadow, convinced that Stollart was a spy, saw clearly that Releston's secretary
must have informed the master plotter of the letter that Dadren had enclosed with the plans
themselves. Stollart, like Harry and Vic, had been present when Releston had told the story
of the tracings.
How did the unknown schemer intend to gain the plans from the senator's vault? The place
was too well watched. Stollart, a spy and not a fighter, could not be depended upon to gain
them. Harry's description of Releston's strong room had satisfied The Shadow.
Strategy, not strength, would be the method by which the unknown plotter would gain those
plans. Dadren's letter had paved the way. Seeking a method by which the master crook
could profit by Dadren's message, The Shadow found the answer.
His pen moved swiftly upon the paper. The Shadow was summarizing the facts that he had
learned, through various sources, about Eric Hildrow. Professor Whitburn had supplied
information. Polmore, in his confession to the professor had named the master crook as
Reginald Satterly.
A tall man—a red mustache—hair of the same color—a monocle—
These notations faded. Then came Whitburn's own description of the man whom he had
seen; the one whom Nuland had recognized as his chief.
Sallow—black hair—black mustache—
A dying crook had coughed out a confession in the Hotel Halcyon. His description of Eric
Hildrow had begun like Whitburn's. Then the man had added words which The Shadow now
wrote:
Changed—to a beard—
That change had come after the departure from Death Island, when Hildrow was faring forth
to arrange for the capture of Commander Dadren. That was the guise in which Dadren must
have met him. The character of a bearded man.
