Harry produced Wally's silk mask and carefully arranged it to cover his face. He fixed it so that he could see through the narrow slits.
Harry's gloved hands gripped the picture frame. It was tight against the wall, but a few shifts enabled Harry to find how it was fastened. The painting came away. Harry laid it on the hatbox. His lips smiled beneath the silk mask, as he noticed an open space where the picture had been.
Harry saw the door of a small wall safe, protected by a most effective device: a letter lock. The middle of the door showed five small letters, like the figures on a speedometer. At present, those letters formed the medley:
BZRSQ
With gloved fingers, Harry turned each cylinder, bringing new letters of the alphabet into view. He reached the ones he wanted and adjusted them so that they formed an exact line, spelling he word: CHIME
When Harry gripped the knob beside the letter lock, the door of the wall safe came open. Harry found a stack of jewel cases. Opening them in quick progression, he took out the gems, placing each emptied case with the picture on the hatbox.
The jewels formed a double handful; but Harry managed them with one hand by holding it against his coat. Harry was a fair judge of gems; he recognized that this collection was certainly worth the one hundred thousand dollars of estimated value.
One old-fashioned finger ring was mounted with a huge emerald - one of the finest green stones that Harry had ever seen. There was a ruby-studded brooch, a diamond necklace, pendants that contained excellent sapphires. Other rings and bracelets glistened with diamonds of smaller size; but if those gems were flawless, their value would run high.
The last item in the safe was a purse of woven platinum, that crinkled when Harry brought it out. It made a fair-sized bag, large enough to hold the gems, if they were lightly packed. The purse would he useful later. For the present, Harry did not intend to use it.
He pocketed the purse and waited beside the wall safe.
Tensely, the minutes passed. If Harry had been Wally, he could have put away the loot and made a cool departure either by the elevator or the window, according to which he preferred. For the present, Harry intended neither.
He was following Duke's orders no longer. From this point on, The Shadow's instructions were in operation.
Soon, The Shadow's plans were to produce a startling development that would bring crooks into the open. The Shadow was ready to force the issue with the hidden big-shot, Duke Unrig.
CHAPTER III. THE DOUBLE SURPRISE
WHILE Harry Vincent waited in Apartment 6H, Fred, the tardy elevator man, arrived in the downstairs foyer. Fred was a poker-faced fellow. He formed a distinct contrast to Eddie. In fact, it was Fred's superior ability that had caused the management to put him on the important night shift.
"Sorry I'm late, Mr. Deedham," began Fred, stopping at the office. "It won't happen again, sir -"
"Yeah?" It was Eddie who interrupted, as he came from the elevator. "Well, it happens that you picked the one night I had a date."
"That's serious," laughed Fred, eyeing the other operator. "I guess you're only due for about one date in a lifetime!"
Deedham remarked that he would have to dock Fred as a matter of policy. Fred looked disgruntled; then nudged his thumb at Eddie.
"You ought to dock this bird all the time," said Fred. "There's a lot of rules he doesn't follow. Like taking people up in the elevator without asking who they are, or where they're going."
Eddie looked sheepish. Fred had picked his weak point. The long-faced operator started to say something, then decided against it.
"I get it," grinned Fred. "I'll bet you slipped on that very order this evening!"
"I guess I did," admitted Eddie. He turned to the clerk. "There was a fellow went up about ten minutes ago, while you were at the switchboard, Mr. Deedham."
"You didn't ask who he was?"
"No, sir. He got off at the sixth and hasn't come down. I didn't notice him close, except that he looked all right."
Deedham made a note on a slip of paper. He told Eddie to go off duty; then spoke to Fred:
"Watch for the fellow. Find out who he is, when he comes down."
Fred entered the elevator. His back turned to Deedham, the operator showed a wise look. Everything was working right. Fred was the finger man who served Duke Unrig. He had come here late for a definite purpose. Fred had been sure that his lateness would make Eddie jittery enough to forget the rule about questioning persons who went up in the elevator.
As matters stood, Eddie would be blamed for the robbery when it was discovered. He would be fired for negligence. Fred would remain on the job, in high standing, completely supported by Deedham's testimony.
Fred had found out that Eddie did not remember what the visitor looked like. That made everything right for Wally.
Fred's job was to flag the crook when he rang from the sixth floor and tell Wally to slide out by the window. He could report to Deedham that there had been no one waiting for the elevator. That would start a lot of excitement, with Wally safely away.
PASSING minutes made Fred decide that Wally had already gone through the window. That made it all the better. Standing in the open elevator, Fred was just about ready to approach Deedham and start talking about the mystery man on the sixth floor, when a girl came hurrying into the foyer.
Fred's poker face changed slightly. He recognized Francine Melrue. The girl had come from the charity ball in haste, for her evening wrap was almost slipping from her shoulders. Francine stopped at the office with the worried question:
"Has my brother arrived yet?"
"I have not seen Mr. Melrue," expressed the clerk, in a surprised tone. "I - I thought, Miss Melrue, that
-"
"I know. George and I have not been on the best of terms. That does not matter. I received a message that George wanted to see me here at once."
Fred had a shrewd idea. Wally had probably cleared out and called Duke. This could be a stunt to shift the blame elsewhere. Stepping from the elevator, Fred remarked:
"Maybe it was Mr. Melrue that Eddie took up to the sixth."
"Of course!" exclaimed Deedham. Then, to Francine: "Possibly your brother is upstairs in the apartment."
Fred took Francine up to the sixth floor. Obligingly, he kept the elevator there. Fred expected the girl to come hurrying out with screams about a robbery. Fred was due for a surprise.
As soon as Francine opened the apartment door, she saw the lighted living room. She looked about as she entered, and spied Harry a moment later.
The girl stopped short, as she viewed the masked face beneath the derby hat. She saw Harry's gloved left hand with its load of gems.
Instead of faltering, Francine showed spunk. She sprang across the room to snatch at the jewels and the mask.
Harry, faking that he was surprised by the girl's entry, was up against a real predicament. He solved it by pushing Francine away with a quick arm-thrust. Harry started for the door of the bedroom.
On the way, he whipped off the derby hat and poured the jewels into it. Holding the bowler like a football, nestled in his left arm, Harry reached to his pocket with his right. He brought out Wally's revolver, to bluff a threat against Francine.
Harry's shove had sent the girl against a corner table. When Harry turned, Francine had opened a drawer. The girl was pointing a .32 in Harry's direction. She had him covered before he gained a chance to aim Wally's gun.
"STAND where you are!" ordered Francine, in a strained tone. "Drop that gun!"
There was bravery in the girl's voice. Harry saw the determined chin that Wally had admired. He knew that Francine had nerve enough to shoot. Harry dropped the stubby gun.
"Now the jewels." Francine spoke louder, more briskly. "Put them on that chair!"
She nudged her revolver toward the center of the room to indicate the chair. A moment later, she again had Harry covered. Slowly, Harry started to obey the girl's order. As he did, he heard sneaky steps in the
hallway.
Harry guessed right when he decided that some crook was making an approach. It was Fred. The finger man had heard Francine's voice and knew what was up. This was something not in The Shadow's plans.
Harry was supposed to be away, with the jewels, before any others came. It was a tight spot for Harry; in the emergency, he thought quickly.
Francine had brought her gun from deep in a lower table drawer. There was a chance that the girl had kept it there unloaded. There was also a possibility that whoever had inspected this room some time ago had found the gun. A smart finger man might have unloaded the weapon, just in case something like this might happen.
Chances were even, as Harry saw them. He was ready for the risk. He gave a shrug as he put the derby on the chair. His motion was slow, reluctant; it suddenly changed to speed. Twisting from the chair, Harry made a dive for Francine's gun hand.
He had the girl's wrist before she could press the trigger. The gun went upward, its muzzle pointed wide.
Francine managed a tug. The gun went off.
Harry was wrong in his guess; but that no longer mattered. The shot had missed. Harry was plucking the smoking weapon from Francine's fingers.
Francine still showed bustle. She grabbed for the lost gun. She clawed for Harry's mask. Her evening wrap fell as she grappled; with arms free, Francine showed determined opposition until Harry caught one of her wrists in a backhand grasp. He spun the girl around; held her helpless beside him.
Panting, Francine glared upward at the silk mask, trying to guess the features that it covered.
Past the girl, Harry saw Fred at the door. The finger man had drawn a revolver. Harry shook his head, to indicate that the gun would not be needed. Thinking the masked man to be Wally, Fred put away the weapon.
Though Harry regretted it, there was only one way to handle Francine and keep her safe from actual crooks. That was to put her far enough away for Harry to manage escape by the window. Harry relaxed his grip.
As Francine twisted away, hoping to free her arm, Harry propelled her across the living room. Spinning as she went, Francine finished with a tumble that crushed the empty hatbox.
Grabbing up the jewel-loaded derby, Harry wrenched open the door to the bedroom and dashed through, pocketing Francine's revolver as he went. One-handed, he pulled up the window sash and swung over the sill. The adjoining roof came flush with the wall of the apartment house, one floor below.
Hanging with one hand, Harry stretched downward and dropped.
FRANCINE had found her feet. She started for the bedroom; on the way, she saw Wally's gun, where Harry had dropped it. Francine grabbed the revolver and aimed for the dim outline of the opened bedroom window. With that move, she put herself in a predicament that Harry had not foreseen.
Fred, at the outer door of the apartment, thought that Francine had actually spotted the masked man who had gone through the bedroom. Fred yanked his gun; aimed quickly for Francine, to drop her before she could fire.
From the corridor behind Fred's back came solid darkness that swallowed the crook. The Shadow had trusted nothing to luck. He had come here beforehand.
His viselike fingers clamped Fred's gun. His other arm encircled the fellow's neck with the power of a python's coil. Fred's chin went up. His eyes bulged; his lips failed in a gargly cry. When The Shadow gave him a forward pitch, the crook sprawled senseless on the apartment floor.
Francine furnished staccato accompaniment with shots from Wally's revolver. Her fire was unless, for Harry had long since left the window. Francine turned about to see The Shadow finish Fred. As the girl stared toward the doorway, The Shadow tossed Fred's gun beside its senseless owner.
The gesture told Francine that The Shadow was a friend; that he had saved her from a treacherous foe.
Before she could express her thanks to the black-cloaked rescuer, The Shadow pointed to the telephone. His burning eyes carried a command that Francine understood. She made a quick call to the downstairs office, telling Deedham to summon the police.
When Francine turned from the telephone, The Shadow was gone.
Francine thought she understood. The Shadow intended to leave the finish to the law. Francine was right; but she made a mistake in thinking that the finish was already due.
Crime's thrust was not over. Francine Melrue was to witness more of The Shadow's prowess.
CHAPTER IV. CARDONA SOLVES A CRIME
THE sound of Francine's shots had carried outside. They were heard by lurkers beside the hotel. That produced a result that Duke Unrig had always wanted to avoid - action from the cover-up crew that the big-shot had posted in the vicinity.
Half a dozen rowdies made a prompt appearance in the downstairs foyer headed by a rangy, hard-eyed fellow whose flattish nose and long jaw made him conspicuous. Any headquarters detective would have recognized that profile.
The leader of the thuggish invaders was "Nogger" Tellif, long wanted by the law. Nogger had been Duke's lieutenant for the past three months, but this was the first time he had come out in the open.
Deedham heard the clatter of the invaders and peered from the little office to see Nogger at the head of the mob. The intruders had drawn their guns; that was enough for the clerk. He made a dive through an inner door and bolted it behind him.
Nogger stopped at the counter; he delivered an ugly scowl when he saw the plugged switchboard.
"That mug's tipped the coppers," growled Nogger. "We gotta work fast. C'mon! We're going after the moll!"
Thugs pried open the door of a second elevator. Leaving a pair as lookouts below, Nogger took three others with him to the sixth floor. First out of the elevator, the rangy leader saw the car that Fred had vacated. With a wave, he motioned his followers in the direction of Francine's apartment.
When he reached the opened door, Nogger saw Francine standing near the telephone. The girl was holding Wally's revolver pointed toward Fred. She was determined to keep the finger man a prisoner until the law arrived. So far Francine had met no difficulty; for Fred was still lying senseless.
Nogger's appearance complicated matters for Francine.
Before the girl could aim in his direction, Nogger had her covered. With an ugly grin, the big thug stepped into the apartment. Francine bit her lips as she let the gun fall. She raised her hands, but did not quail.
"A SMART jane, ain't you?" gritted Nogger approaching close. "Maybe you're too smart. Anyway, we think so - me and the boys."
Still grinning, he nudged over his shoulder toward the three "gorillas" who had followed him. They had lowered their revolvers, to watch Nogger handle Francine.
"We're going to snatch you outta here," informed Nogger, as he edged closer to the girl. "The less you squawk, the better it's going to be for you. Savvy?"
He thrust a big paw forward to clutch Francine's shoulder. Again, the girl showed the fight that she had displayed before. Her hand swung with a resounding thwack against Nogger's leering mouth. As the gangleader swung his head back, Francine grabbed for his gun.
Viciously, Nogger grabbed Francine with his free hand. Francine twisted away; a strap broke from her evening gown as Nogger clutched it. An instant later, Francine was half sprawled on the floor. As nervy as ever, she was snatching for the gun that she had so reluctantly dropped.
Nogger started to follow; then stopped with a snarl. The best place to settle this fighting female was right here. Nogger raised his revolver.
An instant later, the would-be murderer had forgotten Francine. A strident challenge made him look elsewhere. That challenge was a mocking laugh that came from the doorway of the darkened bedroom.
Nogger dropped back, aiming as he did. He knew the author of that taunt: The Shadow! He caught a quick glimpse of a cloaked figure, aiming a huge automatic. Nogger tried to beat The Shadow to the shot; and failed.
The Shadow's .45 tongued an arrow-point of flame. The bullet cracked Nogger's gun wrist. He dropped his revolver with a pained snarl and staggered back toward the h
allway door.
The Shadow had called that shot with precision. Not only did he disable Nogger; he sent the big leader straight into the path of the three gorillas who were starting to take aim. Their chance to fire was delayed; but The Shadow's opportunity remained.
Wheeling out into the living room, he jabbed shots from different angles. One hoodlum collapsed. A second staggered. The third took it on the run.
The fleeing man reached Fred's elevator and boarded it. He slammed the door and made a quick downward trip. The staggering man loped after him; tumbled to the floor of the second elevator. He managed to half close the door and pull the control lever. As the elevator went downward, the thug sagged to its floor.
Nogger jerked out into the corridor a moment later and took it on the run. Halfway to the elevator, he saw a revolver and grabbed it up with his good hand. Snarling as he backed away, Nogger thought he was ready for The Shadow.
He came to the elevator doors that were partly open, and waited. Nogger could aim equally well with either hand. He spat a vicious welcome as The Shadow swung suddenly from the door of the apartment.
This time, Nogger thought he had the bulge. He felt sure enough of himself to take cover. Nogger made a quick backward step through the doors of the elevator shaft. An instant later, he was off on a six-story tumble. During that death plunge, Nogger heard the trailing laugh of The Shadow.
MOVING back through the apartment, The Shadow saw Francine, again with gun in hand. He went through to the bedroom; as he reached the window, he heard the clatter of elevator doors. The police had arrived to handle the downstairs crooks and capture the men who had fled.
The Shadow waited long enough to make sure; then dropped from the window, just as officers arrived to find Francine.
Across the roof; through the trapdoor; down the stairway of the next-door building. At the bottom, The Shadow found Harry Vincent. His agent passed over the platinum purse, stuffed with Francine's jewels.
The Shadow whispered an order. Harry added the cards that had come from Wally's pocket.
There was an open door at the rear of the building. The Shadow peered out into darkness and saw that the way was clear. He took Harry out with him; their courses parted.
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