Ignoring a taxi at the corner, Allard walked to the next street. He slipped aboard a cab that was parked there, gave a low-toned order in The Shadow's whisper. The cab started instantly. While it wheeled around the block, its passenger was busy donning garments of black.
As they turned into Lawsham's street, The Shadow's hidden lips gave a whispered laugh.
Another cab was pulling away. It was a cab that The Shadow had seen, parked in darkness across the way, while he walked with Mann. As The Shadow suspected, his visit to Lawsham's had been observed.
No spy, however, could have known that Kent Allard was The Shadow. But those spying tactics promised an unusual sequel.
Professor Lawsham, it seemed, was receiving another visitor - one whose arrival might carry a clue to the very matter that so deeply concerned The Shadow: that of some person who had once been closely associated with Lawsham's scientific experiments.
The Shadow's cab stopped in darkness. A cloaked form emerged, blending with the blackness of the sidewalk. The Shadow, in his turn, was paying another visit to the old professor's home.
This time, The Shadow's arrival would be secret.
CHAPTER X. THE CROSSED TRAIL
THE SHADOW'S route of entry was one that he had picked when he first came to Lawsham's house.
Moving through the passage beside the bay window, The Shadow reached the wall that connected with the adjoining house.
Opening the old door, he reached to the top of it. Using the knob as a step, he easily scaled the wall.
Once he had swung the door shut, The Shadow stretched for the bay window. The reach was a short one; a ledge beside the window offered a foothold.
The window was shuttered; its barrier was iron. This upstairs blockade, however, had none of the strength that went with the barred windows below. Prying with a portable jimmy, The Shadow wedged a narrow space between the halves of the metal shutter. With an upward prod, he loosened an inner clamp.
Once inside the room, he made a quick examination of the shutter. It hadn't been inspected for months, as corner cobwebs testified. Using his tiny flashlight, The Shadow fixed the shutter to his satisfaction.
To all appearances, it looked untampered with; but the loosened clamp had weakened. It could be set to drop in place at the mere closing of the shutter. That fact meant that this window would be a good way for quick exit, as well as for future entry.
The room, itself, was an old sitting room, filled with furniture that had been draped with sheets. Edging his way through, The Shadow discerned light that trickled from the cracks of a closed door. Reaching the door, he inched it open. He looked into a deserted second floor hall.
Like a materialized ghost, The Shadow glided toward the front stairs. All was silent, empty, in the hall below.
Only the lights of the parlor were visible, indicating that a visitor was there. The absence of the servant meant that the fellow had gone below to summon Professor Lawsham from the laboratory.
The stairs were old, but they gave no creaks as The Shadow descended, for his weight was half against the banister. At the bottom, The Shadow paused, then made a quick shift to a curtain that hung beside the wide doorway of the parlor. His keen ears had caught the approach of footsteps.
Professor Lawsham came from the basement stairway. His pace was spry, his eyes eager. His face wore an expression that he had carefully veiled from Allard and Mann: one of inherent craftiness, accentuated by the sly way in which he rubbed his hands together. As Allard, The Shadow had noted traces of that underlying nature, although Mann had failed to suspect it.
When Lawsham neared the parlor, his manner changed. His face became sympathetic; he slowed his steps to a half-labored gait. He was too intent upon his coming interview to note the black-clad figure so close to the dark curtain. It was through that very curtain that The Shadow peered, when Lawsham entered the parlor.
THE caller was a girl, no more than twenty years of age. Though plainly dressed, she made a charming appearance. She was a slim brunette; she had large brown eyes that were as lovely as the face that formed their setting. Perhaps it was their misty look that gave them a sparkle, for, obviously, the girl was troubled.
She had risen from a chair to meet Lawsham. The old professor spoke words of kindly recognition.
'Miss Delton!' he exclaimed, mildly. He reached out to receive the girl's gloved hand. 'What brings you here?'
'It's - it's about Dick.' There was a quaver to the girl's tone. 'I had to see you, professor. If - if Dick -'
For a moment she choked; bowed her head to repress a sob. Lawsham's touch was fatherly, as he laid his hand gently on her shoulder.
'Have no worry, Arlene,' he soothed. 'Whatever has happened, I shall try to help you. Tell me - what have you heard from Dick?'
Arlene's choke ended. She looked up, her eyes brilliant from the teardrops that her gloved fingers were brushing from her cheeks.
'I haven't heard from him,' she said. 'That's just the trouble, professor. We must find out what has become of him!'
'Yes,' agreed Lawsham, slowly. 'We must.'
There was a certain grimness to the professor's tone. Arlene sensed it. Her eyes showed alarm.
'What is it, professor?' she asked, anxiously. 'Do you mean that Dick had some hidden purpose in leaving so suddenly?'
'Possibly.'
'But you wouldn't tell me before,' insisted Arlene. 'Was it because you didn't want to frighten me?'
Gently, Lawsham urged the girl to a chair. He stood with folded arms; solemn, yet mild of expression.
'Richard Remingwood was my most trusted assistant,' affirmed Lawsham, soberly. 'You knew, Arlene, how much I trusted him. When he came to me, one day, and asked for a vacation, he told me that you and he were to be married.'
'We were to be.' Arlene tried to smile. 'Dick had postponed it because of his work here. But he had promised, so often, that some day he would surprise me. We'd be married that very day, he said, then start on our honeymoon.'
'I know,' acknowledged Lawsham. 'I thought the day had come. I told Dick he could leave; and for the next two weeks, I often wondered where you and he had gone. I smiled to myself, because both of you had forgotten to write me. And then -'
Lawsham bowed his head; sadly, he eyed Arlene above his spectacles.
'That was when I came here,' declared the girl, 'to find Dick - only to learn that he had gone, without a word to me. I've hoped, so often, that I would hear from him. I know that you have received no word, but I had to come here again, tonight!
'Tell me, professor, what you suspect? You said that you were sure no harm had come to Dick. Is it - is it because you have proof that he - that Dick became dishonest? It would be hard for me to believe it!'
'Hard for me to believe, as well,' assured Lawsham. 'If Dick had simply disappeared, I would not believe it. But he left of his own freewill, Arlene - as I told you.'
'I know.' Arlene arose, to grasp the professor's hand. 'Perhaps the temptation was too great. Dick often said that people would pay large sums for your formulas. But I hate to believe that he sold them. Why' -
the girl had suddenly remembered something - 'he even said that you were depending upon him to develop new processes; that you promised him rewards -'
'That is all true,' interposed Lawsham. 'That is why we must give Dick the benefit of the doubt. We must find him, wherever he is. If he betrayed my trust' - Lawsham was shaking his head - 'he may have done so under threat.'
A new expression came over Arlene's face. It was hope mingled with alarm. Her tone was as anxious as it was eager.
'How can we find him?'
'By hiring a competent investigator,' decided Lawsham. 'You loved Richard Remingwood, I trusted him.
We have no proof that he has done wrong. Come here again tomorrow, Arlene. Meanwhile, I shall inquire regarding private detective agencies.'
