“Palermo lives in a veritable fortress. He considers his position impregnable. But while he remains in his place of safety, forty stories above the street, he can act only through his mobsters.
“They can prove no match for the man who commands us!”
“George Clarendon—”
Clyde put the question in a puzzled tone. He knew that his employer was a man of mystery, but he had not classed him as a man who could cope with forces of the underworld. Harry Vincent smiled.
“You have met him as George Clarendon,” he said quietly, “but that is not his real identity. He is a man who has assumed various personalities — so many, that even I, who have aided him on many occasions, do not know who he actually is.
“There is but one identity by which I can define him, and that identity is as mysterious as the man himself.
“The man who commands our actions is The Shadow!”
Clyde Burke opened his mouth in startled amazement. He tried to speak, but words were lacking. A medley of surprising recollections were passing through his mind.
“The Shadow,” repeated Harry softly. “A man of mystery. A man of power. A man with a supermind, who appears in strange disguises; whose own identity, when he assumes it, is hidden beneath a black cloak.
“A man whose cry of triumph is a mocking laugh, which brings terror to the hearts of his enemies.”