At some instant — probably when they had stopped at the gates — The Shadow had disappeared, silently and invisibly.
Fellows could not believe his senses. He almost doubted that he had had a companion in the limousine.
He would have considered it all a dream, but for those clear thoughts and statements that still lingered in his mind.
He went leisurely into the house. He gave his hat and coat to a waiting servant. He was ushered into the large living room.
Lamont Cranston greeted him with a smile. The millionaire was a comparatively young man, but his face seemed a trifle old. In fact it was almost masklike, as though his features possessed an artificial mold — a surface over a face beneath.
Cranston's eyes were twinkling in a kindly manner.
"Glad to see you, Claude," he said.
"Thanks for sending the car," replied Fellows.
"That's all right." The millionaire laughed. "But I've been worrying about you, old man. Rather a dull trip it must have been — coming out here all alone."
"I didn't mind it."