The window shade was flapping. George crawled from the bed to close the window. He looked to a courtyard below the apartment-house wall; there, he gained a blurred impression of motion. He thought that he saw a blot of blackness melt from sight.
It suddenly struck George that it was poor policy to gawk from an open window. He started back toward his bed. He stopped when he saw a streak of light beneath the door that connected with the living room.
George donned slippers and dressing gown; he wondered why Francine had risen so early.
The girl had evidently come from her bedroom quite a while before; for George found her seated at a table, finishing a letter. Francine was attired in a gay kimono; but her expression was serious. She seemed to be choosing words with great care. Hearing George enter, the girl looked up.
'What's the idea, sis?' demanded George. 'I thought we were supposed to be keeping out of sight. Here I find you writing a letter -'
'To Mr. Reddingham,' inserted Francine. 'Have you any objection, George?'
At first, George offered none. Then, as Francine finished the letter and began to fold it, her brother argued:
'Sure, I've got an objection! First you insist that we sneak out of sight, without even mentioning it to Reddingham. Now you're writing to him. That doesn't make sense!
'It's dangerous, sis' - George's tone became a plaintive whine - 'and I don't like it! If we'd talked to Reddingham in the first place, it might have been all right; but you were afraid to do that -'
Francine gestured an interruption. Rising, she passed George the letter.
'Read it,' she suggested. 'It explains matters. If you have any questions, you will find me in the kitchenette making breakfast.'
George read the letter. He was rubbing his eyes before he had finished the first three lines. From that point on, his mouth was open in amazement. The letter stated facts that almost stunned him. Its contents were as follows:
DEAR MR. REDDINGHAM:
Recently, I received advice from a friend who calls himself The Shadow. He told me that enemies plotted to gain three million dollars that rightfully belonged to myself and George; that it would be best for us to stay somewhere out of sight.
We have followed that advice. We are safe and we have the three million dollars. But The Shadow has not sent a message that we expected. It is to come in a radio announcement from Station WNX at 8 p.m. We are to listen for certain emphasized words.
Unless we hear from The Shadow by tonight, we shall have to
depend upon you. We have counted upon The Shadow choosing someone with whom we can place the money safely. If he does not help us, we shall risk a visit to your office tomorrow.
Sincerely, FRANCINE MELRUE
Carrying the letter, George popped into the kitchenette, wearing a dumbfounded expression. He stammered questions; and Francine calmly answered them. She told her brother of her two meetings with The Shadow and admitted that the supposed threat from crooks had been a fake.
'Then we've been duped!' expressed George. 'You were fool enough to believe the fellow, Francine.
The Shadow is playing some game of his own! He wants us out of the way!'
Francine pulled open a cupboard drawer. George blinked. He was looking at stacked bundles of bank notes, bonds and other securities. Francine smiled.
'If The Shadow chose to dupe us, George,' said the girl, 'he would scarcely have placed three million dollars in our possession.'
'Three million dollars!'
George's tone was breathless. He pawed through the wealth; made an estimate of its amount. Francine was right; The Shadow was a friend. George's expression became one of concern.
'We'd better get away,' panted George. 'Go somewhere else - take the money with us - put it in good hands! If something's happened to The Shadow - maybe we'll be next -'
George halted under Francine's contemptuous gaze. He saw a thrust of the girl's chin; knew what was in her mind. Weakly, George sat down.
'I guess I'm a cad,' he admitted. 'Thinking of our own safety and not caring what's happened to this chap who helped us along. I'm sorry, Francine.'
George's penitent mood showed that he would follow any plan that Francine offered. The girl put the letter in an envelope, sealed and addressed it. While she was affixing a stamp, she told her brother:
'I'm calling up the corner store for some groceries. I can tell the delivery boy to mail this letter. It will reach Mr. Reddingham before his office closes.'
AT four that afternoon, the letter reached Reddingham's; but it was not delivered to the attorney.
Reddingham's secretary was ill; a smug substitute was working in his place. When that man saw the envelope, he promptly compared it with a sample of Francine's handwriting.
Immediately afterward, the substitute secretary found an excuse to leave the office. He took the letter with him.
Shortly before five o'clock, Strampf was ushered into Bradthaw's office. With a dry smile, the cadaverous investigator handed the letter to the master-crook. Strampf commented that the letter had been intercepted at Reddingham's office.
Bradthaw's eyes became steely as they read the letter. The gray-haired executive took only a few minutes to form his conclusions.
'The Shadow was far ahead of us,' decided Bradthaw. 'He must have known too much about the Melrues, at the time when he blocked the jewel theft. It was The Shadow who took Caudrey's three million, before we even thought of the X-ray photographs. He talked to the girl, knowing that she had nerve.
'The Melrues went through with the house sale just to bluff us. Afterward, they had to take to cover. By that time George had become worried. Francine took charge of everything. It is now her turn to be troubled.'
Strampf nodded; he added the harsh remark:
'Because they have not heard from The Shadow. They do not know that The Shadow is dead.
Tomorrow, we can waylay them when they come to see Reddingham.'
With a smile, Bradthaw shook his head.
'Too crude, Strampf,' objected the crooked executive. 'They might call Reddingham before they approached the office. Learning that he never received the letter, Francine would foresee danger. There is a better way to handle this.'
Leaning across the desk, Bradthaw brought his fist down with a triumphant thump, as he announced:
'We shall let the Melrues hear from The Shadow!'
STRAMPF'S tiny eyes blinked before he caught the idea. Bradthaw waited; he could almost picture the workings of Strampf's mechanical mind. At last, Strampf spoke.
'It can be arranged,' he stated, crisply. 'A false message from WNX. One that the Melrues will accept as authentic word from The Shadow. Just what do you wish to tell them?'
'We must bring them here,' declared Bradthaw. 'Safely, without the slightest semblance of danger. I shall be the man whom The Shadow has appointed as custodian of the three million dollars.'
Bradthaw's plan was perfect. His own reputation was undisputed. The Melrues would recognize his name, his standing as a big man in the insurance world. They would not hesitate at placing the three million dollars in his care. So Bradthaw reasoned, and Strampf agreed.
'They will tell me everything,' chuckled Bradthaw. 'That will enable us to cover every detail. If we learn that the Melrues have spoken to no one other than The Shadow, we can eliminate them promptly. Their disappearance will be complete.
'If they have mentioned their secret to certain friends, we can act accordingly. In that case, we shall keep the Melrues under cover until we have dealt with those other parties. Merely a precaution, Strampf.'
Strampf nodded.
'A wise precaution,' he agreed, 'and therefore necessary. Whatever happens to the Melrues afterward, will never be blamed upon you, Mr. Bradthaw. However, I anticipate no complications. It is probable that the Melrues
