A long hand lifted itself from the table, vanished into darkness. There was a click as the bluish light went off. A low, weird laugh stirred the sanctum, fading with The Shadow's departure.
WITHIN the next quarter hour, a taxicab swung from a side street and followed the Bowery, moving slowly along that famous thoroughfare.
There was a double reason for the cab's slow progress. An elevated railway
ran above the Bowery, impeding speed. In addition, the street was a favorite haunt for shambling bums, who crossed the thoroughfare with little regard for traffic.
Besides those reasons, there was a third cause for the cab's reduced speed.
There was a passenger in the cab, though it looked quite empty. Seated deep in the rear seat, The Shadow, fully cloaked, was enveloped in darkness as he gazed from the window. His keen eyes were studying lights along the street.
For the most part, the Bowery was gloomy, but one building showed a stretch of brilliance.
It was the Diamond Mart. Oddly situated in this doubtful section of Manhattan, the Mart formed an exchange where huge deals in gems were transacted
daily. Its ground floor teemed with booths, the headquarters of merchants who displayed their diamonds and serenely made sales totaling many thousands of dollars, as if dealing in mere trifles.
The evening being early, the Mart was still open. Its doorway was wide; the portals seemed to welcome visitors. But the Diamond Mart was as closely guarded as the United States Mint. To start trouble within its walls would be akin to suicide.
Along the Bowery, The Shadow saw policemen, who were regularly assigned to
guard the Diamond Mart. They were like figures in a guessing puzzle; there were
about twice as many as the eye would ordinarily suppose. In addition to the bluecoats, plain-clothes men were on duty. Patrol cars were also in the neighborhood.
It happened that The Shadow's present destination was a block south of the
Diamond Mart. Knowing that crooks were about, he wisely gave the Mart a careful
inspection as he passed. Had anything disturbed the calmness of the scene, The Shadow would have paused for further study; but it happened that the building was as serene as he had ever seen it.
Inside the Mart were special watchmen, who spotted suspicious customers at
sight. Knowing their capability, The Shadow spoke a low-toned order to his driver and the cab proceeded onward. The next place that needed observation was
The Shadow's special goal, an arcade that ran from the Bowery to another street.
The arcade formed a contrast to the Mart. Long, low-roofed, it offered shelter to the riffraff of the neighborhood, and such characters were plentiful.
At this hour, the arcade was rather dark, and as he passed it The Shadow noted that it held more than its usual quota of human drifters. He observed, too, that many shamblers were circulating about, always keeping within close range of the arcade.
Among these, The Shadow recognized his own secret agents, four in number.
Two of them frequently patrolled the badlands, and were therefore quite at home. The other pair were posing as panhandlers and were doing a good job of it, but they were careful to remain in the offing so as not to be too conspicuous.
Reports were correct: crooks were assembling at the arcade. They were passing themselves as the lowest of human scum, which wasn't difficult, for they were rats by trade. But the arcade, itself, offered no target for crime.
Having covered the Diamond Mart, The Shadow decided to take a look at Chinatown, only a few blocks away.
The cab in which The Shadow rode was his own. Its driver, Moe Shrevnitz, was one of The Shadow's agents and a very capable hackie. At his chief's order,
Moe weaved the cab into Chinatown, where a slow rate of speed was natural.
Chinatown proved as quiet as the Diamond Mart. Along the curve of Doyers Street, The Shadow saw patrolmen on their regular rounds. All was quiet near the corner of Mott and Pell, the real center of the district. Moe continued his
roundabout course, finally making another trip past the Diamond Mart.
The cab halted there, abruptly, to let another cab stop. The Shadow saw the man who alighted, watched him wave an affable greeting to a detective who shifted into sight. The dick recognized the arrival; so did The Shadow. The man
from the cab was Flush Tygert.
HE was a different Flush Tygert from that afternoon. He was more prosperous in appearance. Flush was wearing a natty-looking suit; the lights from the Mart brought a gleam from a diamond on his finger, and his cuff links showed the same sparkle. Moreover, Flush had cash. He showed a bundle of it when he paid the cab driver.
Flush peeled his bank roll like a head of lettuce. He had thumbed through ten-dollar bills and twenties before he found a stray five among the fifties.
He used the smaller bill to pay the driver. While the cabby was finding difficulty in making the change, Flush stuffed the big roll back into his pocket.
Chance played its hand right then.
A scrawny bum was slouching past the Diamond Mart. The shambler showed interest at sight of the cash. He shoved himself toward Flush, mouthing something about 'sparing a dime.' Flush gave a glance at the fellow's pasty face, then told him to be on his way.
The detective stepped forward; the bum made a quick scramble. A little farther along, he stopped to tell another panhandler what had happened. Both threw quick glances back at Flush.
This episode had all the markings of a well-timed act. It looked as though
the two bums were on hand to spot how much cash Flush had with him. The gambler's bank roll certainly ran into thousands of dollars, big enough game to
account for the assemblage down in the old arcade.
Diamond cut diamond; crook rob crook. The set-up impressed The Shadow, as his cab wheeled away. Flush Tygert was certainly flush tonight, and the news had been passed along.
As for Flush's presence at the Diamond Mart, it was natural enough. The Shadow had listed Flush and his habits, long ago. Records showed him to be a gambler who played the ocean liners, varying his trips, traveling to Europe and
South America. When he came back with big winnings, Flush always invested them in diamonds.
Not having seen Flush that afternoon, The Shadow naturally assumed that the gambler had been lucky on his last South American excursion, since European
voyages were no longer popular. Therefore, his trip to the Diamond Mart was logical.
Flush might rate as a crook on boats beyond the twelve-mile limit; on shore, he passed muster. The Shadow classed him as a normal customer at the Diamond Mart.
Elsewhere, Flush might be prey, either for his cash or his diamonds, particularly if he passed the old arcade after he left the Mart.
On the chance that such might be the case, The Shadow decided to drop in on the meeting place where he had seen too many mobsters. At his order, Moe swung the cab past the next corner.
Flush Tygert had not seen The Shadow. It was unfortunate, therefore, that the unseen cab rider had not waited a little longer. For Flush performed his next action in a fashion that was a trifle too dramatic. Pausing in the doorway
of the Diamond Mart, the crook tried to light a cigarette with a lighter that worked too well.
Several times, Flush's ticking thumb produced a flame, which he promptly suppressed. He didn't want his light as soon as he was getting it. An elevated train was approaching, high above. As it came by, Flush finally let the cigarette lighter work, and held the flame steadily until the train had roared beyond him.
Then, with a gleaming smile, the man who called himself Five-face stepped into the welcoming portals of the
