A gentleman named George Clarendon was expressing his regrets because he was forced to leave so early. The girl to whom he spoke seemed quite disappointed after his departure. She did not return to the dance floor, where the hilarious party was at its height.
Instead, she went to a telephone booth and called a number. What she said, and what occurred because of it, played a very important part in the career of Gunner Macklin.
HALF an hour had gone by when the man in the automobile became suddenly alert. He fancied that he had seen something across the street near the alley. He raised his automatic while he watched.
Light, trembling shadows clung to the wall of the house next to the Hoetzel home. They seemed like living shadows — particularly one, blacker than the rest.
Gunner hesitated. He was looking for a shadow called The Shadow. He expected it to be elusive, but at least more than a vague phantom. He was ready to fire; but he knew that a single foolish shot would cause trouble for the four men in the alleyway.
The shadow that he was watching seemed like a human shadow. Macklin strained his eyes to find the form to which it belonged.
He was unsuccessful.
The shadow was motionless now. It began to move as though swayed by the slight wind. It seemed to slide along the wall toward the alley.
Still Macklin waited. His gun was trained on the opening of the alley; his finger was trembling on the trigger.
The shadow was in front of the alley. Little by little it was gliding into the darkness. Macklin clenched his teeth. The man must follow the shadow, he knew. Despite that fact, the man was still invisible.