"I know who called you," continued The Shadow. "Savette is your accomplice. In all probability, he has a coded dispatch to send to Orlinov, in case you do not appear at his home."
The Shadow laughed again, and his tone, though louder, did not emanate from that room. It caught the echoes of the wall. It reverberated, and Tremont's eardrums throbbed with the ghostly sound.
"Tonight," declared The Shadow, "Glade Tremont will appear at the home of Doctor Savette. Later, Glade Tremont will go to Glendale and order the release of Clifford Marsland.
There, in addition, Glade Tremont will end the schemes of terror that now exist.
"You doubt my statement? That is because you do not understand my methods. Look!"
With his left hand. The Shadow swept away his slouch hat and brought down the collar of his cloak. His head was fully revealed.
Staring at the disclosed face, Glade Tremont gasped. He was looking at himself — his own features as clearly portrayed as though he had been staring in a mirror.
The lips of the false Glade Tremont moved. The Shadow was speaking again but his voice was a perfect imitation of the lawyer's tones.
"I am Glade Tremont!" declared The Shadow. "I am the man who will act tonight!" As he heard that voice, the real Glade Tremont wilted in his chair. He had sought to combat The Shadow. He had planned, but he had failed.
The master crook slumped helplessly. He saw death now — death that he could not escape.