Cliff Marsland thought of the situation as he rode back to Orlinov's castle, along with the silent Russian. Tonight, two men had plotted, not knowing they were overheard. Their plans were doomed to failure. The Shadow was due to intervene!
Chapter X — The Shadow's Plan
A tiny spot of light was glowing in a darkened room. The shadow of a hand passed over the spot of illumination. A telephone clicked. The light went out. A low, whispered voice spoke through the darkness.
Low words came from the receiver:
"Burbank speaking."
"Report," said the voice of The Shadow.
Short, terse information was given. The conversation ended. The Shadow laughed.
Although it was pitch-black in this windowless room, daylight had not yet waned outside. The afternoon was just drawing to a close. Tonight was the time when Glade Tremont and Matt Hartley were to meet at the lawyer's Long Island home.
Through Burbank, the only man who contacted regularly with him by phone, The Shadow had learned that Matt Hartley was still in flight out of Mineola. The famous aviation expert had left at noon for a test of one of his new devices. He was not expected back until after dusk.
Now a light appeared in the corner of the room. It revealed a small table upon which rested various small articles of make-up. The Shadow seated himself before the table, but only his white hands appeared within the sphere of light. The hands appeared with what seemed to be a thin mask of wire gauze, no more than a skeleton framework filled with a few solid patches.