“Acting Inspector Zull,” he said. “New York City detective headquarters.”
The conductor nodded. He had expected this. Orders had been awaiting him at the last city.
“All right,” he said, gruffly. “Work it quick, if you can. I’ll show you where he is — in a drawing-room. I think he’s the man you want.”
He led the way softly between rows of curtained berths. They stopped at the door of the drawing-room in which Bob Maddox slept. The conductor softly inserted a key and turned it. He stepped back.
Zull entered, followed by the other man, a tall individual whose face was wrapped within a muffler.
The door closed behind the two men, the second shutting it with his left hand, while his right still pressed against the back of the inspector.
Zull turned on a flashlight. It revealed Bob Maddox, sound asleep.
Calmly, the second man passed an automatic to Zull. He spoke in a low whisper as he did so.
“It is loaded,” were his words. “But remember; I have mine.”
Zull was amazed at the calmness of this warning. He had traveled, bound, in the back of a closed plane, which The Shadow had piloted. Now he was released; added to that, he had been supplied with a loaded gun!