"All over a shadow. Shadows can't bother anybody."
"They can't, eh? I didn't think so, either. But there was a guy I knew once — a fellow they called Croaker. He went nuts over a shadow. Thought it was alive and following him. He wasn't any good at all after that. The boys bumped him off for double-crossing them, and I heard that when he went out he was still crying about The Shadow."
"All bunk, Steve."
"Bunk, nothing. I saw the guy the same night he died. He was telling me about The Shadow. He thought it was real. It made me laugh. But he wouldn't take much to convince me now that there is a real person — a real person called The Shadow."
There was silence for a moment. Steve Cronin took another drink and put the bottle back in the suitcase.
"Well," he said in a forced tone of briskness, "it looks like we're out of luck, Wally."
"There ain't no sign of this guy Meyers," replied the henchman. "I've been watching for him. He's gone, all right."
"Then he's back in Cleveland. He never stays away more than two days. I'll have to go back and begin operating again."
"Guess that's the best thing. Say, Steve. What about the guy we — the guy last night?"
"Him?" Cronin laughed. "He's out. You saw what I did. He didn't have a shoemaker's chance."