He slipped within. There was a single light which Mayhew had left burning. The Shadow crossed the outer room and opened the door of the study. It closed behind him.
As on another night, the mysterious man was shrouded in pitch-black darkness.
ONCE again, The Shadow started an inspection. It was brief, covering details that had been interrupted on that other night. Soon after he had begun, The Shadow arrived at the window.
The Shadow ignored the window. His light glimmered upon the radiator. He had inspected that spot before.
Now his hand rested upon the knob that controlled the flow of heat. Through the thin glove, he sensed that the radiator was cold.
The Shadow laughed softly. His inspection here had been interrupted and postponed. He had divined a secret of this place.
Tonight he had learned of it from the dying lips of Homer Briggs. But the man’s reply to The Shadow’s question had simply substantiated what The Shadow already knew.
The Shadow, however, had divined something else — a most important fact which Homer had not known.
Upward clambered The Shadow. His body rested on the window sill. His feet were against the window. The black-clad arms hung downward toward the floor.
They moved in the darkness, spreading gradually apart as a dull glimmer appeared above the floor. Slowly, gradually, the strange, gleaming object stopped on its upward way.