Indeed, there were various facts which Harry had not found it necessary to reveal. The most important concerned Harry's presence here tonight.
Powell had assumed that Harry was working for his own interests. Had the stoop-shouldered man known Harry Vincent's real employer, he would have been utterly dumfounded and — in all probability terrified. Harry Vincent was an agent of The Shadow. That fact told a tremendous story, for The Shadow was such a mysterious figure that even his agents seemed cloaked in the veil of darkness which surrounded him.
To the world at large, The Shadow was an enigma. To the police of New York, he was an unknown genius who battled crime more effectually than did the law. To the underworld — in its crime centers in every city — The Shadow was a scourge.
The Shadow's exploits in New York and Chicago had sent hundreds of gangsters scurrying to other cities. Even in their new haunts, the hand of The Shadow did not hesitate to stretch out and pluck those who had incurred his wrath.
Despite the fact that The Shadow was untraceable, the man himself was as audible to the public ear as he was invisible to searching eyes.
Once a week The Shadow's voice could be heard over the radio on a national hook-up.
His weird, uncanny laugh thrilled millions of listeners with a tremulous shudder.
The world knew the laugh of The Shadow — and gangdom understood its meaning, for every fiend of the underworld knew that sometime that laugh might ring in his own ears — and that with its sinister merriment would come his doom!
The Shadow seemed everywhere when crime was being done. Through his agents and investigators none of whom had ever met him face-to-face — he learned of gangdom's doings, and launched his organized force of co-workers, to crush the evil foe.
So constant were The Shadow's efforts in this battle against crime, that in his massive archives appeared only records of his most important conflicts. The skirmishes with minor figures of the underworld passed unnoticed.