The door closed imperceptibly. The Shadow faded into the darkness of the front hall. Half a minute later, Golga appeared and went forward. When he reached the living room, the servant heard no whistling from the corner.
Bringing out his flashlight, he found the window bars back in place; the window sash had also been closed. The screws of the bar frame were loose, however. They had been hurriedly replaced.
Returning to the front hall, Golga paused between the first doors. He heard a distinct cough from Hadlow's room. Stopping at Jalway's door, Golga listened intently. He heard someone moving about within the room. Golga crept onward, to report to Elger.
Again, a blackened shape appeared as soon as the servant had entered the den. Once more The Shadow approached and performed his motion at the door. Listening, he caught Golga's new report. He heard Elger grumble.
'Jalway, all right,' came Elger's opinion. 'Well, we'll keep a watch on him. So long as he snoops around outside, there's no reason to worry. But it proves that we've got to look out for him.
'Smart, choosing a window in the living room. He figures that if we noticed it was open, we wouldn't know who did it. Well, Golga, we've got Mr. Jalway's number. We'll keep it.
'Turn in for the night. I'm not going below until tomorrow evening. I'll be up a while and I'll take a look in that front hall myself before I go to bed. After this, we'll check on Jalway. But we'll make no move so long as he does his prowling outside.'
The Shadow faded from the door. His laugh came as a sibilant whisper as he reached the darkness of the front door. No echo remained when Golga reappeared from the den. The servant went to his own room.
BACK in the den, Purvis Elger sat puffing at his meerschaum. His right hand steadied the pipe, while his left drummed softly upon the desk. A slow, crafty smile wreathed itself upon the schemer's lips.
Purvis Elger had learned that one of his guests was a prowler. He had decided that the fellow was playing a lone game. That, to Elger, was proof that there would be but one to watch: Bram Jalway.
Cunningly, Elger was planning a way to bring Jalway's prowls to an end, should occasion make that course advisable. He was satisfied that the fellow could cause no damage to affairs here on Timour Isle.
There was reason for Elger's smile. The shrewd crook was basing his opinions on Golga's report. Golga was vigilant. He had learned that one guest was missing. Elger was confident that the servant could keep tabs on whatever might happen in this house.
But Elger's smile would have faded had the crook realized how little Golga had actually discovered. Master, like servant, held to the impression that these castaways - Bram Jalway included - were all ordinary persons.
Not for an instant had either suspected that among the group was one who moved with the stealth of night itself. They did not know that this house of crime was harboring the secret presence of The Shadow!
CHAPTER X. THE SHADOW'S MESSAGE
THE next morning brought a letdown of the high winds that swept the Georgia coast. The center of the storm had passed, but mountainous waves still beat upon the shore of Timour Isle.
The hurricane, reduced to a gale intensity, had gone northward, along the Atlantic seaboard. Ships had scurried to the shelter of the Chesapeake capes. New Jersey beach resorts were suffering damage from heavy waves.
In New York, strong winds were screaming fiercely among towering skyscrapers. A chilly drizzle was driving down into the canyons formed by Manhattan streets. New Yorkers were gaining a taste of the tempest that had paralyzed shipping along the coast.
High in one of those Manhattan towers sat a placid, round-faced man who seemed oblivious to the sights outside. He was busy at a desk in his private office, studying lists of stocks and bonds. He was Rutledge Mann, a quiet, methodical investment broker.
A stenographer announced a visitor. Mann studied a card that bore the name of George Dalavan. The visitor was unknown to Mann; nevertheless, the investment broker ordered the girl to show Mr. Dalavan into the private office.
Dalavan entered. His lips held a slight smile beneath his clipped mustache. In every deal that he made, Dalavan liked to meet men who looked easy to handle. Mann belonged in that category, according to Dalavan's estimate.
It was Dalavan's belief that Purvis Elger had gained information regarding certain securities through the guests on Timour Isle, for they were people of wealth. Dalavan had wondered why Elger had sent word to negotiate through one particular broker; and upon seeing Mann, Dalavan thought he had the answer.
The transactions probably required a broker who would not suspect that a big deal was under way. Mann appeared too dull a person to catch on to any smooth work.
'I came to talk about investments,' informed Dalavan. 'I was told that you might know about them. What facts can you give me about Argentum Silver?'
A SLIGHT flicker of surprise appeared upon Mann's rounded features. It ended as the investment broker smiled and leaned beck in his chair. Mann's answer was so complacent that it finished the slight suspicion that flashed through Dalavan's mind.
'Argentum Silver,' announced Mann, 'was a freak issue that has disappeared from sale. At what price were you advised to buy it?'
'At nineteen.'
'No wonder your friend recommended it. Argentum Silver was snapped up at twenty-seven. It cannot be had at nineteen.'
Dalavan looked disappointed; then he stated:
'I was also advised to purchase Eastern Zinc, Incorporated, at twelve and one quarter.'
'That could have been done,' returned Mann. 'Eastern Zinc was a good buy at that figure. However, the stock is off the market. Eastern Zinc was recently absorbed.'
'What about Consolidated Securities?'
Mann nodded as he heard Dalavan's question. The investment broker seemed pleased by his customer's interest in that stock.
'Consolidated Securities is as yet unlisted,' stated Mann. 'I understand that all has been subscribed; but there are option holders who would sell small blocks at a reasonable profit. It is something of a speculative offer; but I can advise you definitely when I have obtained a late report on the stock. Where could I reach you later today?'
'At my hotel,' replied Dalavan. 'I am stopping at the Bonzell. Room 1214.'
Mann made a notation on a desk pad.
'You will hear from me by five o'clock,' he told Dalavan. He glanced at his watch. 'I shall go downstairs with you, Mr. Dalavan, as it is my lunch hour. I expect to meet some brokers during lunch and will make initial inquires when I talk with them.'
The two left the office and descended to the street. Dalavan headed toward Times Square; Mann took the opposite direction. As soon as he was out of Dalavan's sight, Mann hailed a cab.
SHORTLY afterward, Mann reached a modest apartment house. He rang a bell that bore the name Slade Farrow. He was admitted promptly to an apartment; there, he shook hands with a keen-faced, middle-aged man whose eyes showed a gleam of interest when they spied Mann. It was plain that Farrow saw something unusual in this visit.
'Mr. Farrow,' stated Mann, in a careful tone, 'I have come here on a matter which concerns The Shadow. Both of us have served him. Posing as an investment broker, I work for The Shadow. Your part has been a different one. As a criminologist, you have knowledge of the underworld. In times of emergency, you have supplied able workers to The Shadow. Men who were once crooks, but who have gone straight.'
'They are always ready when The Shadow needs them.'
'He requires them at present.'
Farrow's eyes gleamed with interest at Mann's statement. He waited while the investment broker paused, then listened intently as Mann resumed.
'A few weeks ago,' declared Mann, in a confidential tone, 'The Shadow left New York. You will be surprised to learn that he had no motive in doing so other than to enjoy a needed rest. Crime seemed in abeyance, here in
