Still, it was Cliff’s duty to aid The Shadow in any way within his power. He could do this if necessary, even though it might reveal his true capacity. One point pleased Cliff. His identity was unknown to any man except Clipper Tobin.
He knew that Clipper worked for some other man, but Clipper had agreed to deal with Cliff alone, and to keep his name a secret. When Clipper agreed on something, he kept his word. That was why he had so long remained a free agent in gangdom, unmolested by warring gunmen.
Cliff ceased all contemplation suddenly as the door which Clipper controlled began to open inward under the gangster’s pressure. Light entered the little hallway. Cliff’s body moved forward his gun hand raised.
The gangster stepped swiftly into the room, and Cliff slid to his place at the open door. The entire scene was revealed to Cliff.
A man was sitting in a chair at the far corner of the room. Cliff recognized him as Arnold Bodine, although his appearance was a trifle different from the usual pictures of the big shot.
Bodine’s hands were sprawled upon the chair arms. A startled, hunted expression was upon his face. He was staring at the muzzle of Clipper’s automatic. The gangster was threatening him from the center of the room. Cliff, from an angle, saw Clipper’s ugly, menacing profile.
Peering quickly around the edge of the door, Cliff was surprised to note that the room was otherwise empty. Where was The Shadow? Could it be possible that he had not arrived?
For an instant Cliff thought that Bodine might be The Shadow in disguise; but one more view of the startled man in the corner altered that opinion. Bodine, answering a grunted command from Clipper, was elevating his hands above his head. The man was helpless.
“Big Shot Bodine,” sneered Clipper sarcastically. “All ready to be bumped off! Don’t like it, neither, eh?”
The threatened man licked his lips painfully. He made a reply in a forced voice a feeble effort to mislead his enemy.