Half rising, Jeremiah Benson spat curses at the man in black. The Shadow laughed. The clock on the mantel chimed twice.
Turning, The Shadow strode toward the door. Benson wondered at the action. The Shadow had performed it before. Returning, The Shadow spoke final words.
"Mayo will be here tonight," he said. "He, too, is playing some clever game. But he will come. Let him come."
An automobile was driving up to the door of the lodge. The Shadow went to the hall and was obscured in the darkness.
A man was approaching. The door opened. Harry Vincent stopped short as he heard a low, weird whisper.
To Harry, it was a voice that he had heard before. It was a voice that he obeyed — the voice of The Shadow.
Harry listened while he heard instructions. Then he walked inside, alone. He saw no one as he passed through the hall, but as he entered the living room, he heard a sound from outside.
Someone was driving away in the car.
The Shadow had gone. His agent was in charge, awaiting the arrival of Sherwood Mayo.
Harry had met with temporary disaster that night. The wrecking of the car had delayed him, but he had managed to obtain another automobile. He had arrived late — but in time to be of service to The Shadow. Harry could not understand The Shadow's presence here, for he knew that The Shadow had been in New York that evening. He did not know of the flying field near Brookdale, where an automobile had been waiting. The Shadow had come by air.