"Major will tell you what to do, Ferret," said Judge quietly. "I am leaving, I have an appointment. I am going out by the same door I entered. I think that David Traver, president of the Middletown Trust Company, has the privilege of visiting his own bank."
Major pointed to the body. He took the shoulders; Ferret the feet. Together, they lugged The Shadow, face downward, to the far corner of the room, the flowing cloak drooping to the floor. They shoved their burden through the open panel. Then they were gone, and Judge heard the muffled closing of the stone barrier beyond.
Judge smiled. His well-aimed shot had done its work. It had clipped The Shadow's shoulder at an angle. In all probability it had reached the man's heart.
One against five? No. It had been one against four — with one beside. The leader had done his work. Let the underlings perform the carrion task of disposing of the body. Judge extinguished the light and went softly up the stairs. He reached the side door and made his exit.
Two minutes later, David Traver, president of the Middletown Trust, was standing at the corner.
There was an annoyed look on his face.
It was five minutes after nine. He had an appointment to keep with Harvey Bronlon, at the millionaire's home. He would be late — quite late.
Judge felt that tardiness was inexcusable; even when circumstances had made lateness unavoidable. Nevertheless, his thin lips were smiling when he hailed a passing cab and ordered the driver to take him to Harvey Bronlon's residence.
For Judge had really had two appointments set for that evening. He was keeping the second, now. Harvey Bronlon, important though he was, had not been given precedence tonight.
For Judge's first appointment had been with The Shadow. He had kept it — as he had planned!