“Ps-s-t!” warned Flash. “Keep mum!”
Flash watched his underling go down the hall. As Dip turned the corner to the stairway, Flash closed the door. The racketeer went back into his apartment, a satisfied smile upon his face.
He was here. Dip was on his way to the street; all was settled for Thursday night!
But Flash Donegan could not see beyond that closed door.
Nor could the departing Dip Riker know what was happening in the silence of that darkened hall, for Dip was now nearing the second floor.
From the blackness outside of Flash Donegan’s abode came a mirthless, quivering laugh — a gibing laugh that made very little sound, yet which awoke whispering echoes from the gloom.
The man who laughed was invisible. He could not be seen as he stood by Flash Donegan’s door. He was naught but a form of blackness as he moved along the hall toward the stairs, following the very path that Dip Riker had taken.
The sound of his mysterious mirth continued — an echoing trail that moved toward the floor below. No one was near to hear that strange, uncanny laughter, nor to seek the man who uttered it.
It was The Shadow who laughed — The Shadow, master of darkness, terror of the underworld!
His laugh was a foreboding laugh. It meant no good to the racketeers who had just discussed their affairs in private meeting. For Flash Donegan’s fears of a listener had been caused by a living presence. He had spoken only when he was sure that no one was near enough to catch his words.