Judge stopped him.
"Yes," he said. "Deacon and Major have been doing night work. Some that you expected; other that may surprise you. That is all you need to know just now, Butcher. Let the rest come — from Delmar." The topic changed. Ferret listened keenly, and his shrewd eyes looked from one man to another. Tonight was to be the beginning. For the others, perhaps, but not for Ferret. He dated the beginning of his new career with that night in New York.
Ferret's eyes gleamed as he smiled. None of his companions had spoken of the death of Daniel Antrim. The case had not been mentioned in recent New York newspapers that Ferret had bought. No one, Ferret thought, could know one iota of his connection with the death of the crooked lawyer. Police and gangs alike were in ignorance. Who else mattered?
Ferret did not know of The Shadow!
The Shadow knew!
Chapter VII — The Shadow Pounders
At the very moment when Ferret, in Middletown, was fancying that the affairs of Joel Hawkins were of little interest elsewhere, a brain in uptown New York was thinking of Ferret.
The scene was a windowless room, furnished with bookcases, filing cabinets, a desk, and a single chair. There were lights in the room, but each was centered on a different object. A green-shaded bulb threw a circle of light upon the desk. Other smaller incandescents glimmered their rays upon the cabinets and the bookcases.
The center of the room was dark and spectral. Only the edges were illuminated. The floor was heavily carpeted in jet black. The walls showed no opening. Despite the fringing lights, not even a shadow could be seen upon the sable floor.
Yet there, in that weird gloom, some one stood. The sole occupant of the mysterious abode was an invisible being who seemed a part of the thick blackness in the center. For this was The Shadow's secret place of consultation. The books in the shelves were funds of information that covered the specific subjects which intrigued The Shadow. The filing cases contained full, cross-indexed information on persons and events which had concerned him. One portion of a bookcase was closed by a metal panel. Its smooth surface bore no lock; yet only The Shadow could open it.