Scarcely had he taken his stand, before brakes screamed as a taxi pulled up to the curb. Out of the cab stepped the man with the evil, wolfish face. He walked a few paces away and assumed the attitude of an idler watching the street.
Another cab arrived. Harry Vincent alighted. He went into the Metrolite Hotel, and the shrewd-faced man watched him closely. The fellow laughed sullenly as he observed Harry’s features. That laugh meant that he would recognize Harry Vincent when he saw him again.
The man turned and walked along the street.
From the blackness of the building came another laugh. It was soft and mirthless — scarcely audible.
A phantom shape emerged and trailed the man who had been watching Harry Vincent. The following form was almost invisible as it took up the pursuit.
Upstairs, in his hotel room, Harry Vincent thoughtfully made out a report. He was reciting the facts that he had learned tonight.
In the back of his head lurked a suspicion that some key to the disappearance of Robert Buchanan could be discovered at the home of Clinton Glendenning.
Harry was totally oblivious to the fact that he had been followed on his return to the hotel. He did not know that a hidden man had tracked him in the dark.
But The Shadow knew.
The Shadow was at work!