"It's three o'clock. Grady ought to be here soon."
The speaker was Jeremiah Benson. He sat facing Sidney Delmuth. Between them was a plain wooden table, upon which rested a bottle and glasses. They were in the back room of a small cafe.
"You're sure he will come here?" questioned Delmuth anxiously.
"Don't you worry about Grady," said the gray-haired man. "He was to call me before he came up to the apartment. He won't get any reply on the phone. So he'll come here. This is our regular hangout." Delmuth poured himself a large drink and swallowed the liquid hurriedly. He was glum as he studied Benson.
"I don't like this business," declared Delmuth. "Everything was going well — but with The Shadow mixing in it, we have to be careful."
As he finished speaking, Delmuth turned and glanced about the room. He seemed to feel that he was being watched. The memory of The Shadow still hung over him.
Benson laughed.
"Forget The Shadow for a while," he said. "That's why I brought you here — so you could be sure he wasn't on your trail."
"Suppose he has followed us?" Delmuth still doubted.
"He hasn't. I'm old in the game, Delmuth. The way we changed cabs coming here would fool the best of 'em."
"He followed me to your apartment!"
"Yes. That was because you weren't foxy enough. He probably suspected that Shamlin wasn't you when he got out of the cab. Maybe he saw Shamlin hiding in the cab in the first place!"
"I thought I fooled him, anyway," said Delmuth. "Now you think you've put one over on him. I missed out; maybe you've done the same — "
"What if I have?" interrupted Benson. "There's only one way to get in here, isn't there?
That's though the door from the street. You've put Shamlin and Harmon out there watching, haven't you?" Delmuth nodded. He seemed reassured. At Benson's suggestion, he had summoned his gangster aides to protect this place.
The old man was right. They had found a spot where The Shadow could not penetrate, and the way was closed. Only Grady could join them here. Shamlin and Harmon had been instructed to let him pass.
"I guess you're right," agreed Delmuth. "It's safe here. I'm thinking about the future, though. Unless we eliminate The Shadow, it's going to be tough for our plans."
"Why?" demanded Benson. "I don't fear him! Once I'm away from New York, he can never find me.
"You will have to watch out. I agree with you on that. Because your job is getting hot tips that Grady and I can follow.
"But don't forget that we only deal in murder when it's necessary. That's Grady's work.
We knocked off three men down in Maryland, and there's been no comeback.
"We have two more jobs ahead of us. Then the blackmail game is ready to go, with no one to interfere. With my backing, there's millions in it."
"Yes," agreed Delmuth, "I don't see what can stop us. Of course, Herbert Brockley and Grant Chadwick were killed — "
"Brockley because he knew too much," Benson interrupted, "Chadwick because it was the easiest way to work it. Grady and I had nothing to do with either of those jobs."
"I'm glad young Chadwick is coming clean," observed Delmuth. "The old man was a menace. Like Brockley, he knew more than he should have. That was one reason for getting rid of him.
"But those stock certificates were the big reason. It was easy to get them from young Chadwick. The old man would never have delivered them."
"I'm not so sure about that," objected Benson. "If I had taken the job, I could have persuaded him. I have a persuasive way when it comes to getting what I want. But the other plan was too simple to pass up."
As Benson finished speaking, the door opened, and a man entered. It was Grady. The stocky, broad-shouldered man was leering as he entered. In his hand he held the portfolio which he had received from Denby Chadwick. Without a word he tendered it to Benson, who passed it over to Delmuth.
Eagerly, the advertising man opened the portfolio. From it he drew a mass of papers.
Chief among these was a stack of green stock certificates.
Delmuth's eyes gleamed. His lips moved excitedly as he unfolded the certificates.
"These fix it!" he exclaimed. "Mayo offered plenty for these, but could never get them.
Wait until he finds out that I have them! Here's the whole controlling interest of the Holyoke Safe Manufactory! It dominates the entire industry!
"Grant Chadwick was foxy enough to hang on to them, but he was too slow to use them.
He knew what he could do, but he was holding back. He could have crimped Mayo completely.
"That's why Denby Chadwick is sick — he knows that Mayo wants them, and he knows he's double-crossing Mayo. That's why he tried to beg off, but he's afraid of me. If he only had sense enough to know — "
Benson was holding his hand to interrupt. Delmuth stopped his sentence. He realized that Grady was simply an ignorant underling who served Jeremiah Benson, and that the old man did not want these details discussed too freely while Grady was present.
"Did you have any trouble, Grady?" asked Benson quietly.
"No," said the stocky man, in a gruff voice. "That guy Chadwick handed it all over without any argument."
Delmuth, smiling knowingly, handed a paper to Benson. The gray-haired man read it. His eyes gleamed with malicious pleasure. He gave the paper back to Delmuth.
"You're taking charge of it?" asked Benson.
"Sure," replied Delmuth. "That sinks young Chadwick. I'm the man to hold it over him."
"No trouble, Grady?" questioned Benson. "No one outside the Green Mill?"
"If there was," declared Grady, "they didn't bother us any. I wasn't watching much. You told me that would be taken care of."
"When will you hear from those men you sent there?" Benson questioned Delmuth.
"Shamlin got them for me," said the advertising man. "They're going to report back to him. They don't know anything about what was going on. Their job was to nab all prowlers. That was all."
"You met Chadwick at midnight?" Benson asked Grady.
"That's when I met him," was the reply.
"Then," declared Benson. "I don't think there was any person watching the Green Mill."
"Why?" asked Delmuth.
"Because," said Benson calmly, "the trouble maker was watching us at that time. He could not have been at the Green Mill when Grady and Chadwick were there."
Delmuth nodded in agreement. He knew that by "trouble maker," Benson meant The Shadow. The thought of the mysterious man, who came and went unseen, was annoying to Delmuth. It brought up a most important matter. Delmuth made a sign to Benson. The old man, in turn, motioned to Grady. The hard-faced killer went out of the room, leaving the two plotters alone.
"Benson," declared Delmuth seriously, "we've got to watch out for The Shadow. How he has found out our game is something that puzzles me. The great question is how much he knows.
There are some things that I am sure he cannot know."
"About Mayo, for instance?" Benson suggested.
"I don't think he knows that. I don't see how he could. But he may figure there's somebody else in this racket — somebody that's laying low. If he gets up to Greenhurst — "
"He may find out what Hawthorne knows, eh?"
"Exactly. That's why I want you to get up there, right away, with Grady," Delmuth said.
"Well," nodded Benson, "the sooner we pull the last job, the better. Leave it to me and Grady. We'll start tonight — now that everything else is out of the way."
"No," dissented Delmuth. "Don't do a thing until you hear from me, unless you find that The Shadow is mixing in it. Stay near Greenhurst, but not too close. I'll tip you off when to pull the job."
"I'm going to send Shamlin and Harmon up to work with you."
"Why?"
"Because this has got to look like a disappearance. No murder on the premises. There's ill feeling supposed to exist between Hawthorne and Mayo. If anything should happen to either one of them, the other will be blamed."
"I understand," responded Benson. "Still, Grady and I can pull it without any help."
"Not if The Shadow shows up. That's why I want four of you on the job," Delmuth insisted.
"That leaves you alone, here in New York."
"Which is just right," declared Delmuth shrewdly. "I'm through now. Nothing to worry about. I'll attend to business and forget Greenhurst.
"I'm going to fool The Shadow. I'll let him think I'm up to something. I'll keep him busy, here in New York!"
Jeremiah Benson smiled gently. When such an expression appeared upon the old man's lips, it meant evil, although Benson's countenance was benign.
"That will work," he declared. "It's a good plan. Send your two men up. Tell them to be wary. If they're followed, they can take care of the follower.
"I've been in this game for years. I failed only once. Then I met a man who was my match. Instead of that proving my undoing, it led to greater opportunity. He and I are working together, with you, Delmuth."
"You're right, Benson. You're going to put this job across. You'll have no worry in Greenhurst. There's just one fellow up there who looks phony — and he'll be taken care of, very neatly. He's due for a surprise."
"Don't worry about me," said the old man. "When this is done, there will be great things in the future. Working with Grady, I shall begin a reign of terror, striking fear into those who cannot combat us. When death is necessary, it will strike.
"There will be millions. We shall all have our share. You and I, Delmuth. You and I and
— " He went no further. Sidney Delmuth's eyes were glowing. This picture of grand success intrigued him. Benson arose and waved his hand toward the door.
"Grady and I are ready," said the old man. "We are leaving in the car. You know where we will be. Communicate with us in the secret method."
Delmuth nodded.
"I'll go first," he said. "I'll talk to Shamlin and Harmon — make sure that all is well. They'll go with me when I leave. If I don't come back, the path is clear."
He left the room. A few moments later, Delmuth reappeared on the street outside the little restaurant. Two men approached him. A voice spoke low.
"Nobody been around," one of the two men was saying. "It's O.K.."
"Is the cab nearby?" Delmuth asked.
"Right around the corner."
The group moved away. A few minutes later, a taxi rolled down the street. Harmon was at the wheel. In the back seat sat Sidney Delmuth and his underling, Shamlin. Delmuth was talking to Shamlin.
"Have you heard from the men you sent to the Green Mill?" he asked.
"No," answered Shamlin. "They were coming back to Gorky's place, if anything happened. That's my regular hangout, you know. I told Gorky I was going to be up here."
"You shouldn't have said anything about it," Delmuth reprimanded him.
"Gorky's O.K."
As the cab disappeared down the street, Benson and Grady came from the entrance of the little restaurant. The old man and his companion walked toward the corner.
As they proceeded on their path, a figure emerged from the darkness on the other side of the street. Neither man saw it. They did not notice that strange shape which kept pace with them, moving like a living shadow.
The two men reached Grady's car. The figure flitted toward them and merged with the wall of a building, not more than a dozen feet away.
"Let's go, Grady," said the old man. "We have a long ride ahead of us — to Massachusetts." Grady grunted in response. The men entered the car. The vehicle moved along the street. Then, from the darkness beside the building, came a soft, taunting laugh.
Plans had been made. One plotter and his underling were on the way. The plans had been unheard. But the plotters were not leaving unseen.
The Shadow, man of swift action, had returned to New York from his rescue. With Shamlin as his clue, he had gone to Gorky's, and had learned the gangster's station. There, in the dark, he stood watching two murderous men depart.
What was their work to be? Whether The Shadow knew or did not know, his purpose would be the same. He alone could thwart the scheme that had brewed tonight.