It was Saturday noon. Sidney Delmuth, seated at the desk in his private office, was gazing thoughtfully from the window. There was an odd expression upon his suave face. The advertising man was both puzzled and pleased.
The cause of his mingled emotions was a single fact. For three days, Delmuth had been playing a tricky game with an invisible foe. Day or night, he could not loose himself from the impression that he was being watched.
Delmuth was perplexed because he had been unable to glimpse his mysterious enemy -
the man whom he believed was The Shadow. He was pleased because he was sure that The Shadow's vigil was unending. For it was Sidney Delmuth's game to keep The Shadow occupied.
Although Delmuth was playing an important part in a game that was on the way, he had managed to arrange matters so that he had not spoken a single word that might have been informative to a concealed listener.
He had received certain telephone calls — at appointed places. He had let the people talk from the other end. These calls had always come to phones that had no extensions. Delmuth had given instructions by the simple formula of answering "yes" or "no" to the inquiries which came over the wire.
"The Shadow," murmured Delmuth softly, as he sat by the window. "He's watching me.
He knows I'm in this. But he'll find out nothing. Tonight, of all nights!"
Matthews entered the office. "Everyone has left, sir," he said. "I am ready to leave. Are there any things you want done?"
"Nothing, Matthews," replied Delmuth. "You may go. I intend to remain here a short while." A few minutes after the departure of Matthews, Delmuth arose and went into the other office. He looked all around.