A slow nod came from Cranston.
“I suppose that Albersham fixed it that way.”
“Of course,” retorted Weston, “but how did The Shadow guess it?”
“Because he knew the grave was empty,” declared Cranston, quite calmly, “and therefore he assumed it must serve some other purpose. There was a peculiar marking on Albersham’s slab, wasn’t there, commissioner?”
“Nothing peculiar about it,” snapped Weston. “Like most other tombstones, it had an inscription that said: Here lies the body -”
“The body of Caleb Albersham?” put in Cranston, blandly. “The skipper of the sloop Rover that was lost at sea with all on board?”
That was all, except that Cranston’s smile, alight though it was, had what might have been defined as a visual echo of The Shadow’s parting laugh!