“We rely on your good judgment, mayor—”
“We’re well equipped for crime, anyway—”
These were the stumbling responses that followed the mention of a special appropriation. Now that the warning voice was no longer present, the apprehensive men were changing their opinions. Mayor Cruikshank rapped upon the table.
“The meeting is adjourned,” he declared.
The men filed from the room. The lights were turned out. The officials of Seaview City had made their decision. They had failed to accept the warning of The Shadow!
A SHORT while afterward, a young man entered the obscure Green Room of the Hotel Pavilion. He found his way through the dark until he reached the switch by the wall. He plugged in the loose cord.
“Vincent speaking,” he said, in a low voice. “In the Green Room. The others have gone.”
“Remove connections.” It was Burbank’s quiet voice that replied. “Detach dictograph. Remove equipment from your room. Pack, and return to New York.”
From beneath a corner rug, the young man detached an instrument that was connected with an unused lamp cord. He went back to the wall, and placed his hand upon the plug.
As he hesitated, he heard the low, whispered sound of an echoed laugh, which ended abruptly. The young man removed the plug. No longer could The Shadow hear what was said in this room. No longer could The Shadow speak to those who might be present.