"Put on your hat," replied the old man, with a smile. "We are going out, together." While Delmuth was following the old man's instructions, Benson strolled about the room. He stopped at a corner near the doorway. There, he stared keenly at a screen with three panels. He stretched out his hands as though to touch this article of furniture; then desisted. Instead, he pressed a switch on the wall. This illuminated a series of wall brackets about the room.
The old man glanced toward the screen and smiled. He turned off the switch and nodded to Delmuth.
"Come along," he said.
The two men left the apartment. Benson was talking loudly as they walked along the hall, away from the entrance to the fire tower. They waited for the elevator; then descended to the lobby. Within two minutes after the men had made their departure, a slight motion occurred at the window of Benson's living room. It seemed at first as though a chunk of darkness had assumed a solid form, projecting itself into that deserted room. Then, the form took on the semblance of a human being. A tall man stood revealed in the glare of the single table lamp that illuminated the room. The visitor from the outer darkness was garbed entirely in black. About his shoulders rested the folds of a sable-hued cloak. A black slouch hat obscured his face. Only two burning eyes were visible. The Shadow, man of mystery, had scaled the wall from the fire tower!
He stood alone in the room which the men had left!
Stepping away from the window, he seemed to merge with the darkness of the wall. His step was cautious as he moved about the room.
Dark eyes sparkled as they observed the screen in the corner. The Shadow moved in that direction. He stopped. His black-gloved hand rested on the wall, close by the switch that controlled the wall brackets. Studying the screen, The Shadow laughed. The sound that came from his lips was a low, weird utterance.
The man in black carefully swung the end panel of the screen open. Then he began to move about the room.
His inspection was brief and thorough; but it yielded no tangible results. A letter lay upon a table, addressed to Jeremiah Benson. Its contents were of no importance.
The Shadow spied a telephone. He slipped quickly to the door, opened it, and peered into the hallway. Back he went, to the phone. His black-garbed finger dialed a number. A voice responded over the wire.