It was Saturday morning. Business was progressing nicely at the Middletown Trust Company. Judge, in his luxurious office, was quietly reading the newspaper accounts of last night's great banquet. Major entered the office, and Judge looked up. Maurice Exton, cashier, smiled at David Traver, president. Major closed the door behind him. The two men were where no eavesdroppers could possibly hear what their conversation was.
"Still reading the headlines, eh, Judge?" questioned Major. "Great stuff all right."
"I am just as much interested in the absent news," replied Judge, "as in the news that is present. There wasn't much space for anything but the banquet. Martha Delmar's statement was not picked up by the morning newspapers."
"That's good."
"Stability," said Judge, with a smile. "That has been the keynote today. I have been watching the customers, Major. You have been busier than either Ferret or Butcher."
"Tellers don't make loans," grinned Major. "That's the cashier's job. Going great guns, today, Judge. Cash going out — securities coming in. That's the racket from now on."
"Yes," said Judge thoughtfully. "It's very good. You've been doing it well, Major."
"All short loans," declared Major. "Giving them more than they asked for. Most of the borrowers were hit when the County National crashed. They won't be able to make the grade when the notes are due."
"We'll have lots of securities to dispose of," agreed Judge. "I think I'll send you to Chicago, Major, when the time comes. Transform the stocks and bonds into yellowbacks. Then bring them here."
"Yellowbacks in — greenbacks out," said Major, with a smile.
"Exactly," added Judge. "That will make it worthwhile during the waiting period — when I am looking forward to that Eastern presidency."
"It's a marvel, Judge," declared Major. "A phony gag to build up a genuine reputation. The greatest idea ever — and it's gone over in a big way!"
Nodding, Judge glanced through the glass partition and saw four men entering the bank.
They were stalwart fellows, carrying revolvers in holsters strapped to their sides.
"Bronlon's special police," said Judge. "Come for the pay roll and the bonus money. I can see the armored car out in the street. Your job, Major."
This transaction, completed on a quiet Saturday, was of tremendous size. Bronlon's weekly pay roll was a matter of close to one hundred thousand dollars, including, as it did, pay rolls for lesser businesses with which the great financier was associated.
The armored car had called a week before, and had taken away that sum for distribution.
Now, in addition, the bonus money was going out. It mounted to a month's pay. In all, nearly half a million in cash was to leave in the custody of those four stalwart men.
Yet this immense transaction was merely a matter of routine. Stacks of crisp bills were ready in the vault. A final check-up alone was necessary. Judge went back to his newspaper.
When Bronlon's men were gone, Major reappeared in Judge's office, wearing a troubled look.
Judge glanced questioningly at his subordinate.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"Five hundred dollars short," declared Major, in a serious tone. "I can't figure it. I made it up with another package of bills; but it worries me."
"Probably a mistake yesterday."
"Not a chance, Judge. I don't make mistakes. That Bronlon dough was set — and I had all the packages checked numerically. One right out of the middle!"
Judge shrugged his shoulders.
"You can straighten it, Major," he said. "You've handled this perfectly to date—"
"I know it," responded Major. "That's why I don't like it. Right after we close for the day, I'm going to go over everything. If I find that packet in with the other money, I can straighten all my figures. But still, I won't like it."
"We can stand a little adulteration," said Judge with a smile.
"Sure," declared Major, "but it's not a good idea. I've kept the scale adjusted to a hair until now, I'm not worrying about the amount — it's the fact that bothers me. Five dollars, five hundred or five thousand — it's all the same."
"I'll go over things with you," said Judge. "This is the final check-up, Major. Tonight and tomorrow night will change matters. From then on, your job will be easy."
"Yes, Monday will put us where we want to be."
Major went away, and Judge occupied himself with other matters. Twelve o'clock arrived. The bank was closed. Judge waited a while in his office; then arose to go in search of Major. He met the straight-shouldered man at his own door, and Major pushed him back into the office.
"Look at these!" he exclaimed, in a low tone. "Look, Judge! Look!" He placed three gold certificates in Judge's hand. The gray-haired man stared at them in amazement. Each was for ten thousand dollars!
"Where did you get these?" queried Judge, in a tense tone.
"In with the big bills," declared Major. "I was checking on that five-hundred-dollar error. I looked among the big bills first, just to make sure that the packet wasn't there. I nearly dropped dead when I saw these, Judge!"
"Is there a deficit — or too much?"
"No. It tallies perfectly. But, Judge, I didn't know there could be one of these in Middletown — unless Bronlon had it. Thirty thousand bucks — in three perfectly good bills. Three of them, Judge! That's what knocks me. A ten-thousand-dollar bill coming in through Butcher or Ferret would be reported right away. Tell me — how did these here bills get in with the big notes?" Judge shook his head in perplexity.
"We can use them," he said. "But I agree with you that it looks dangerous. Take it easy, Major. Go out there quietly and bring Ferret and Butcher in here. Just a little conference, you know. We're closed for the day, and the clerks won't see anything unusual about it"
Major nodded and went away. He spoke to Butcher, and the big teller prepared to visit the president's office. Major gave the same instructions to Ferret. The stoop-shouldered man nodded and waited idly in his cage, in no hurry to obey the order.
While he was standing there, he noted an envelope that lay upon the floor beside his stool. He picked it up and saw that it was sealed.
Ferret was opening the envelope as he walked across the floor to Judge's office. He entered the door and joined the other three men. He stopped short as he saw the bills lying on Judge's desk.
"Ten grand each!" he exclaimed. "Where did those come from, Judge?"
"Through a teller's window," said Judge, seriously. "Butcher doesn't know anything about them. It is evident that you never saw them before, either."
"Golly," gasped Ferret. "If I had been handed one of those—" He shook his head and pointed to Major, indicating that the cashier would have known about the matter immediately.
"This beats me," declared Major. "The only way I can figure it is that some one got into the vault — last night per—"
"Don't be absurd, Major!" responded Judge. "If anyone had entered, more than five hundred dollars would be missing. People don't crack vaults to leave ten-thousand-dollar bills."
The three men stood facing him, all bewildered. Judge smiled in a confident manner.
"Don't worry," he said. "This only means that it would be unwise to wait longer. Tonight you will all be here. Finish the job then. Do not wait until Sunday. Everything goes out. You meet Deacon first, Major. Tell him about this. Then Butcher and Ferret will arrive later."
"Everything out," said Major.
"All but the securities," corrected Judge. "They wait."
"We still have a nice surplus," said Major, with a broad grin. "We've got the cream, but there will be milk right along."
Ferret, losing interest in the turn of conversation, glanced at the envelope in his hand. He ripped it open, and drew out the folded deposit slip. He opened the piece of paper, and stared at the reverse said. There, in neatly inscribed letters, was this message:
You began too soon. You should have forgotten Daniel Antrim. Your mistake has been made. All plans are doomed to fail. The Shadow knows.
A startled exclamation came involuntarily from Ferret's lips. The stoop-shouldered man realized his error. The others were staring at him.
Ferret, in alarm, made a move to tear the sheet of paper. But as he drew away, Major reached forward and plucked it from his hands. Glaring, Major held the paper for a moment; then passed it to Judge, while he continued to watch Ferret.
"Listen, Judge," Ferret began, turning his head away from Major's glare. "Let me tell you—" He leaned forward to point to the paper, about to frame an explanation for the facts that it mentioned. Ferret's words died suddenly on his lips. The sheet at which Judge was staring was perfectly blank.
"What's the idea?" questioned Judge abruptly. "Look at this, Major — you, too, Butcher.
There's nothing here! Come clean, Ferret! What's the matter with you?"
Ferret's shrewdness served him well. He could not understand why the writing had vanished. But the fact that it was gone gave him his chance. He relied upon a half truth to serve him at this critical moment.
"There was writing on it, Judge," he said. "Words written right there — on that piece of paper."
"What did it say?" demanded Judge sternly.
"It said something like this," replied Ferret, as though recalling the words, "something like this: 'All your plans will fail. The Shadow knows.' That's exactly what it said, Judge!" The sincerity in Ferret's eyes was convincing. Major's glower ceased. These four had talked of The Shadow, last night. Yet Ferret could not have brought up that name on the spur of the moment.
Judge, Major, and Butcher thought alike. All three knew that they, individually, would have been startled had they read the words that Ferret had just repeated aloud.
Judge was holding the paper to the light. Ferret was momentarily troubled. But Judge's inspection brought no results. No trace of the writing remained. Judge placed the paper upon the desk. He looked from one man to another.
"There is a chance," he declared, "that some one of our group might plan to double-cross the rest of us. There is always such a chance. But I do not consider it likely."
"All of you have everything to lose and nothing to gain. There are games in which one may profit at the expense of others. This game is not of that type. There are Five Chameleons — and enough profit for fifty!"
All nodded their agreement.
"Where did you find that paper, Ferret?"
"In this envelope," was the reply. "On the floor, in the teller's cage." Judge examined the envelope carefully. He placed it with the blank deposit slip.
"Unless you have lost your mind, Ferret," he said, "this note is significant. It means that there is a menace — close by. It means that someone has entered here!"
"How much do you think he knows?" questioned Major anxiously.
"Very little," replied Judge sagely. "If he knew much, he would not reveal himself. He wants to make it appear that he knows more. He has tried to work on Ferret as a starter. He has too much to learn.
"However, we may expect danger, tonight. Be ready for it. Be sure, when you come, that there is no one hidden here. Use every precaution — at both ends. Tell Deacon, Major.
"I shall be at Harvey Bronlon's. I am relying upon you three — and Deacon. If any of you should suspect anything, be sure and let me know before it is too late.
"I think I see the scheme in back of this. Some man — the one who calls himself The Shadow — wants to worry us!"
"He has worried me," asserted Major. "He's started me thinking, Judge. I'm going to come out with it straight. I'm not accusing Ferret of a double cross. All I think is that Ferret has been making some slip. If he has, let him talk right now!"
A shrewd gleam came into Ferret's eyes.
"Look here, Judge," he said. "I see it different. There's only five of us know this lay. All right. I get a phony note. It's got me fooled. You saw that when I read it. I swear I read what I told you.
"Who sent that note? Well, if you want to know what's right in my mind now, I'll tell you. There's four people who might have left it where I'd find it. I'm not accusing anybody, either. I'm just telling you what might be."
Judge, sitting with folded hands, nodded wisely. He studied Ferret closely; then looked squarely at Major. Finally he glanced at Butcher. Then he raised his eyebrows, and all knew that he was considering Deacon. At last Judge spoke.
"I see the game now," he said emphatically. "It has worked. So we will end it. Already, Major suspects Ferret. In turn, Ferret suspects someone else — perhaps Major. Butcher and I have said nothing. But we are wondering, too.
"You see the damage that has been created. We are Five Chameleons — who have worked as one. No one can defeat our plans — except ourselves. Dissension and mistrust can ruin us. Are we going to let it?"
"Not on your life!" exclaimed Major. "You've hit the spike square, Judge! Put it there, Ferret!" Major thrust his firm hand across the desk, and Ferret seized it with a grin. Butcher was nodding his approval. All suspicions had vanished. Judge beamed approvingly.
"Be early, tonight," he said. "It's up to you three — and Deacon. Forget everything else. Work together." All three nodded in agreement. Judge dismissed them with a wave of his hand.
The tension was ended. There might be danger for some unknown person, but they were ready for it. When the three had left the office, Judge sat alone. He was thinking, hands still clasped, of tonight. He was thinking of The Shadow. For Judge, shrewdest of the Five Chameleons, who had adjusted themselves to extraordinary circumstances, was acknowledging The Shadow as a foe that did exist. Sitting there, in his office, the perfect picture of a bank president, Judge was analyzing with the mind of a master criminal.
What did The Shadow know? It did not matter how much he knew. If his knowledge was merely sufficient to be of use to him tonight, there could be but one wise course for him to take.
Judge's eye swept over the floor of the banking room. He studied the door, the windows, the offices, and the vault. His face gleamed, and his thin lips hardened in a curving smile. Judge had heard of The Shadow — the master who worked alone. Judge, too, was a man who worked alone.
These others were his tools.
The Shadow was ready to match his skill against five. Let him try, tonight! For these Five Chameleons were not five of a kind. In reality, they were four — and one.
The others were the four. Judge was the one.
The Shadow and Judge. One against one!
But Judge would have four to help him!