Biscayne left the room, accompanied by Cardona. The door closed behind them.
Weston removed the plug of the table-lamp wire from the plug hole in the baseboard.
Fredericks was ready with the plug that extended, on the end of a short wire, from the metal model. Wilhelm was looking on.
The men did not notice what was happening behind them.
Scarcely had Biscayne and Cardona gone, before the door of Silas Harshaw’s bedroom had opened. Across the floor stalked a man clad in black — The Shadow!
As Fredericks finished screwing the plug into the baseboard, the three men watched the apparatus with interest. Nothing occurred, apparently. Then there was a click at the other side of the room.
The lights went out. The glare of a flashlight revealed the three men by the wall.
Staring into the bright illumination, they could see a hand in front — a hand that held a leveled automatic.
The light swung across the room. The startled men were afraid to move. The burning glare was upon them. The gun, threatening, seemed to force them backward.
“Move,” came a low, sinister voice. “Move back. Keep moving.”