This place was a vital spot. Cliff, by a sortie, could control the wing for The Shadow, and thus protect the other prisoners.
Cliff foresaw a struggle against giant odds, and the thought elated him. He knew well that he could hardly hope to fight his way safety from this place, with nearly a score of enemies to block his path. But with The Shadow beating down the opposition, matters were quite different.
The Shadow alone was match for half a hundred hoodlums.
Cliff pondered. A pistol shot was to be the signal. He doubted that he could hear it. Then he remembered the exact wording of the message, which had disappeared from the sheet of paper he had read.
If shots are fired—
The Shadow, should he open an attack, would meet with a cannonade from Orlinov's henchmen. Cliff would hear that, surely. There was also the possibility of The Shadow waiting until midnight. Cliff knew the exactness of his mysterious chief. Midnight would be the zero hour, if nothing transpired before then. Cliff buried the envelope within the pages of a book. He thrust the paper with some other sheets. He sat down in a chair and puffed at an unlighted cigarette. He was allowed no matches here. The door opened, and Petri stepped in, carrying a tray of breakfast. Cliff looked stupidly toward the solemn-faced Russian. He knew that Petri was backed by a mobster in the corridor. He ate his breakfast after Petri had gone. He drank but little of the coffee furnished him, for he was convinced that it was doped.
The day wore on. A second meal at noon. Cliff busied himself reading various books that were in the room. A long afternoon dragged by. Dinner. Then evening.
Now, Cliff was tense. He realized well the security of his position. There was nothing in this room that could be used as a weapon, save the gun that he had obtained without the knowledge of his captors. It was safely tucked in his pocket. Orlinov and Petri were the only ones who had keys to this room. Any search of the prisoner would be unnecessary.
During the day, Cliff had come to the conclusion that The Shadow must have worked through one of Orlinov's henchmen. He did not believe that The Shadow could be here; nor was it likely that he had sent another operative to the castle.
Tonight, The Shadow would attack from without, knowing that Cliff would be on hand to take charge in the vital section of the castle. It would not be a question of Cliff fighting free; it would be The Shadow's work to battle his way inward.