New York. It was a logical time for The Shadow to take a vacation.'
Farrow nodded in agreement.
'The Shadow informed me,' resumed Mann, 'that he intended to cruise aboard the yacht Maldah, as a guest of the owner, Kingdon Feldworth.'
'The Maldah!' exclaimed Farrow. 'That yacht has been reported missing. You mean The Shadow is aboard?'
'The Shadow was aboard,' replied Mann. 'But it is apparent that he has come safely ashore from the yacht. I received a message from him today.'
'Through whom?'
'Through a man whom I must class as an enemy, until I learn more about him.'
SLADE FARROW was dumfounded by the investment broker's statement. Word received through an enemy. It passed belief. Incredible though The Shadow's methods were, this startling revelation surpassed all that Farrow had known in the past.
'A short while ago,' explained Mann, 'a suave visitor named George Dalavan came into my office and inquired regarding stock issued by the Argentum Silver Mines. No such stock exists. The mention of it means that Dalavan is to be watched. He is a criminal.'
'His identity is known to The Shadow?' inquired Farrow.
'Perhaps,' returned Mann. 'Perhaps not. I merely know that Argentum Silver Mines is the key to check upon the man who made the inquiry. But that was only part of the information that Dalavan unwittingly brought me.
'He also mentioned a stock called Eastern Zinc, Incorporated. He quoted two figures: nineteen and twelve and one quarter. Those do not fit in with any prearranged code with the exception that Zinc signifies The Shadow.
'It seems logical that under the circumstances, The Shadow is anxious to communicate his location. Furthermore, Dalavan referred to an unknown stock called Consolidated Securities. The term Consolidated refers to The Shadow's agents, with whom I have contact. Evidently he requires their aid.'
Slade Farrow smiled in meditative fashion. Eyeing the criminologist, Mann caught what was in Farrow's mind.
'The Shadow relies upon you in cases of emergency,' asserted the investment broker. 'I have previously been instructed to call upon you in time of perplexity. Evidently, The Shadow resorted to some device to convey an additional message. One that he believes you can solve.'
Farrow arose and paced across the room. He was considering all that Mann had told him. At length the criminologist paused to face the investment broker.
'Mann,' declared Farrow, 'I am working on the assumption which you have gained: namely, that The Shadow is subtly trying to tell us where he is. It is obvious that he has landed from the crippled yacht. He might be anywhere between here and the Florida Keys.
'Assuming that he knows his own location, the first information that he would give might be the name of the State where he has come ashore. As I recall it' - Farrow paused as he plucked an almanac from the desk and thumbed the pages - 'the nineteenth State in point of size is Georgia. Yes' - again a pause - 'that is correct. Georgia is the nineteenth. That is where The Shadow is.'
'Somewhere on the Georgia coast!'
'Exactly.' Farrow was bringing out an atlas. 'His reference to Eastern Zinc is probably a reminder of that fact. By use of the word Eastern, he emphasized that point. So from the number twelve and one quarter we must learn his exact location.'
FARROW opened the atlas to a map of Georgia. He ran his finger along the coast line. Mann looked on, a trifle glum, for he could not see how the criminologist could manage to locate the right spot. Farrow's chuckle, however, showed that the man had an idea.
'Obviously,' declared Farrow, 'The Shadow has consulted a map of his own. Since there is no way that we could guess the exact scale of that map, his only course would be to give us a percentage scale.'
'I don't quite understand,' put in Mann.
'Simply this.' Farrow laid a ruler along the map. 'Consider the north to south distance of Georgia in terms of one hundred units or segments, reading upward, in the manner of latitude. That scale' - Farrow was marking it off with a pencil - 'would apply to any map, large or small.
'Here is twelve. One quarter more puts us on this spot. See that tiny island, Mann? The one that has no name? That is the spot from which The Shadow sent his message.'
Leaving the atlas, Farrow went to a filing cabinet and brought out some larger maps. He found one that showed a portion of Georgia, on a large scale. He compared it with the map in the atlas.
'Here we are,' declared Farrow. 'This map names the island. It is called Timour Isle. Not much more than a mile in length. Thick marshes between it and the mainland.'
'That must be the location,' decided Mann. 'I shall send agents there at once.'
'Perhaps,' put in Farrow, 'it would be better to check on Dalavan first. I presume you arranged to meet him later?'
'I am to call him at the Hotel Bonzell. Room 1214.'
'Why not send Hawkeye over there?'
The query brought a prompt nod from Mann. There was every reason why he should approve. 'Hawkeye' was a protege of Farrow's, who had enlisted in The Shadow's service. Hawkeye was a clever trail finder; at that art, he had encountered only one who was superior: The Shadow.
Mann picked up Farrow's telephone. He dialed a number; a quiet voice responded. Mann held a short conversation; he was talking to Burbank, The Shadow's hidden contact man. Not only did Mann request that Burbank assign Hawkeye to the required task; he also urged that other agents - active ones - be ready to leave for Georgia.
A FEW hours later, George Dalavan strolled from his room in the Hotel Bonzell. As he passed the door of Room 1212, Dalavan failed to notice that it was ajar. A small, wizened-faced man was in that room; the man was Hawkeye. Craftily, he had made an entry to the room that adjoined Dalavan's.
Noting that Dalavan was not wearing hat and coat, Hawkeye decided that he was merely going to the lobby. Hurriedly, Hawkeye crossed the room and worked on a connecting door that led into Room 1214. There was sufficient space for him to get at the bolt on the other side; and Hawkeye managed the task, although he was no expert with locks.
Hawkeye had originally planned to crawl out the window and reach the sill of Dalavan's room; but this route, through the connecting door, was preferable.
Once in Dalavan's room, Hawkeye put in a prompt telephone call to Burbank. In a hotel the size of the Bonzell, the operator naturally thought that the caller was either the occupant of 1214, or a friend.
A brief report given, Hawkeye started a search of Dalavan's suitcase. He came upon a letter that the man had received that day. In it, Hawkeye read the details of what had occurred on Timour Isle, as transmitted from Elger to Tully.
The letter suggested that Dalavan go aboard the Dalmatia at Charleston, unless he should prefer to come by the usual route. Included in the letter was the mention of the stocks that Dalavan had discussed with Mann.
Hardly had Hawkeye slipped the letter back into its envelope before there was a sound outside the door of Room 1214. Quickly, Hawkeye scurried across the room and reached the connecting door. He slid beyond it; but had no time to close the barrier. Dalavan stepped into 1214, strolled across the room and began to pack his suitcase.
He had not seen the opened door to 1212. Hawkeye wanted to shut it; but feared that the stir might catch Dalavan's attention. Cautiously, the little spotter waited, staking everything on a break that he expected. The break came. Dalavan's telephone rang. The mustached man turned about to answer it. Hawkeye closed the connecting door. As he started to turn the knob, he heard Dalavan talking to Rutledge Mann.
'Hello, Mr. Mann...' greeted Dalavan. 'Yes... Thirty-six shares of Consolidated Securities... Price quoted twenty-two and one half... You can arrange the purchase...'
HANGING UP, Dalavan turned suddenly. He thought that he had heard a sound from the connecting door. He eyed it suspiciously; then, with a long stride, he walked across and tried the door. He found it unbolted.
Thrusting a hand into his pocket, Dalavan yanked the door open; looked into the next room. He saw no one.
