old gem collector was giving his story. Knowing that Dwig and the accompanying thugs must have come from Garmath, Crome felt that his real friend was The Shadow.
Confessing that he owned the Star of Delhi, but swearing that he had played no part in crime, Crome faltered over to his safe and opened it, to fling the half-million-dollar jewel on his desk.
It took some time for Weston to get the coherent details, which included Crome's forced purchase of the gem. Crome was so desirous to establish innocence, Weston so willing to hear such details as Lenfell's proposal of a swindle that had led to Garmath's reign of murder, that neither the commissioner nor the old collector heard the ringing of the phone bell.
Cardona answered, held a brief conversation. He was starting toward the door, when Weston saw him.
'Where are you going, inspector?' called the commissioner. 'This case is only half complete! We've got to find Garmath!'
'That's what I expect to do!' returned Cardona, across his own shoulder. 'I've just had another tip-off from The Shadow!'
The elevator was reaching the top floor when Cardona and his squad approached. It was being brought up by a rather dazed operator, who was somewhat surprised to find himself back in the car. Cardona and the detectives entered the car and went down.
OVER at the hide-away beyond the big bridge, the guard posted by Dwig heard the signaling thumps of a gun handle. He peered out cautiously, saw the dim lights of a car parked in the opposite alley.
The lights went out, indicating that Dwig's men were about to follow their leader across the street. But it wasn't Dwig, who had thumped.
Gloved hands hooked the guard's throat and lashed him clear of the partly opened door. A sinister whisper, fraught with mockery, sounded in the thug's ear - The Shadow's whisper - enough to take the fight from any man of crime. Into the arms of arriving agents, The Shadow tossed the limply settling figure of his gasping prisoner.
Then, alone, The Shadow ventured into the hide-away.
It was still no time for a massed onslaught. Alone, Jan Garmath would be a difficult foe. He was the elusive creeper whose footfalls were almost as deceptive as The Shadow's laugh. Once he sensed the approach of enemies, Garmath would employ uncanny cunning. The only policy was for The Shadow to use lone tactics of his own to force a meeting with the supercrook.
Proof came immediately.
Barely started into the passage, The Shadow heard the creep of footsteps and sidled into a darkened corner. His gloved hand motioned a signal back to the door, where Harry Vincent, just inside, pressed the door shut and turned toward it.
From somewhere in the passage, Garmath saw Harry's back and mistook him for the guard.
Footsteps shuffled away. It was impossible to tell their direction, at first; then The Shadow sensed that they were going upward, which meant that Garmath must have come from a lower room and started to a floor above. Silently, The Shadow glided inward, found the stairs and followed.
At the top, he saw a doorless opening into a large room. In one corner was a smaller room, barred like a cell. The Shadow saw Garmath look that way. Through the bars, a white face peered back.
It was the face of Roger Sherbrock, the kidnapped lapidary. The scene was setting itself as The Shadow wanted.
Above, The Shadow saw the glisten of the steel trapdoor, which, as he expected, was double padlocked on the underside. It was in the very center of the large room, about eight feet above the floor.
There was a doorway in another corner, but Garmath did not go that far. Instead, he stopped at a squatty contrivance that looked like an electric furnace. He busied himself there so intently, that The Shadow decided to approach.
Exacting in everything he did, Jan Garmath was not the man to let one plan interfere with another. It might be, in his estimate, that Dwig Brencott would return from Crome's with the news that all was well there.
Garmath knew how he had personally thrown fear into Crome, and perhaps the old collector would be capable of staging a good bluff.
If so, Crome would deserve the synthetic sapphire that he had requested, as an alibi to cover his possession of the Star of Delhi. That sapphire was ready, in the same mold that Garmath had used to make a similar gem for Lenfell.
The crucible had cooled; when Garmath opened it, his eyes sparkled as if reflecting the sight he saw.
Shining from its mold was a blue starolite, as good as the imitation that Lenfell had once mistaken for the original Star of Delhi, and which now belonged to Commissioner Weston. Its color was perfect, a rich deep blue. But as Garmath reached for it, he saw the sapphire darken - something which he couldn't quite understand.
He stepped to one side, to study it from another angle. Garmath's hand brushed the cloth of a cloak sleeve.
Suddenly paralyzed, Garmath felt the cloth slide forward. A gloved hand intervened between his own and the brilliant imitation gem that twinkled from the mold. The hand of The Shadow, whose lips were uttering a taunt in Garmath's very ear. Crime's foe had found crime's maker!
There, in The Shadow's reach, lay crime's final proof. It was evidence that Garmath, free in this hidden laboratory, dealt in the manufacture of great, synthetic gems, while Sherbrock, a prisoner in the same place, was helpless to prevent him!
So petrified was Garmath, that he seemed truly conquered. Then, in an instant, his manner changed. He was whipping away, in snakelike style, uttering a defiant hiss: a new challenge to The Shadow.
Drowning Garmath's tone came a cry from Sherbrock. The prisoner was pointing excitedly to the other corner and its open door.
Through that space lunged a huge figure, Garmath's ace in the hole, the man called Krem. Garmath had credited Krem with being stronger than Dwig's whole crew, and Krem proceeded to back the claim.
Swooping before The Shadow could turn upon him with drawn automatic, Krem clutched the cloaked fighter about both arms. When he found he couldn't keep a grip upon his twisting adversary, the giant flung The Shadow half across the room.
Rolling to his feet, The Shadow looked groggily for Garmath and saw the murderer making for the door that led below. With a spurt of his old speed, The Shadow tried to head off the fugitive; but Garmath stopped short of the door and tugged a switch, set in the wall. A steel curtain slashed downward, blocking the door.
Krem was almost upon The Shadow. Knowing he hadn't time to meet the bone-crushing giant, The Shadow sprang for Garmath, who was drawing a gun. Had The Shadow shot Garmath at that moment, he would never have been able to stop the vengeful Krem.
Instead of shooting, The Shadow spun Garmath about; imitating Krem's tactics, he sent Garmath spinning across the room, which brought Krem to a momentary halt. Making the most of that interval, The Shadow drove straight at Krem, aiming his gun at the huge man, instead of Garmath.
Krem caught The Shadow's arm and shoved it upward. Gleefully, he forced his cloaked adversary back against the wall, expecting Garmath to return and supply the finish with some bullets.
The Shadow was shooting, but his aim was toward the ceiling, and he was foolishly wasting all his shots.
So Krem thought, and the giant gave a huge, bellowing laugh.
There were two things that Krem couldn't see. One was where The Shadow's hard fling had sent Garmath - straight, to the door of Sherbrock's cell, where the prisoner had clutched his hated captor through the bars and was wrenching his gun away from him, a task made easy, because Garmath had hit the cell door with a force that badly jarred him.
The other thing that Krem missed was the effect of The Shadow's shots. His aim was toward the trapdoor in the ceiling, and his bullets were shattering the padlocks that barred it!
Slumping suddenly, The Shadow went almost to the floor, with Krem pouncing after him. A quick twist, and The Shadow was away. Garmath saw him and wrenched from Sherbrock's grasp, going after the cloaked fighter barehanded, for Sherbrock had obtained the gun.
Not realizing that Garmath was too dazed even to reach The Shadow, Sherbrock fired all the shots he had.
