Thus reasoned the three.
They were wrong. Little did they suspect that Henry Arnaud and The Shadow were one person — who was in Middletown that night!
Henry Arnaud had gone, because The Shadow had heard!
Chapter XIII — The Shadow Speaks
It was midnight. Martha Delmar was alone in her boudoir. Reclining in an easy-chair, she was trying to read a book. The effort proved unsuccessful. She laid the book aside, and her eyes wandered to the table, where two framed pictures stood.
One was a photograph of her father; the other of her fiance. Roland Delmar was dead.
Hubert Salisbury was in jail, awaiting trial on charges of robbery and murder.
Martha's face was sad; but as she stared tearfully at the pictures, a look of defiance came over her countenance.
She had suffered much, this girl, since that tragic night. Every friend in the world had deserted her. Even her relations — all distant cousins — had ignored her. The rich of Middletown had felt the failure of the County National Bank. In retaliation, they had ostracized Martha Delmar from their society. Two reasons alone kept this brave girl in Middletown. One was the recollection of her father; the knowledge that he was innocent of any wrong. The other was the plight of her lover; for Hubert Salisbury had no friend beside herself.
Bitter thoughts surged through the girl's mind. Strongest of all — for it was most recent — was the thought of her foolhardiness in giving an interview that afternoon. A reporter had baited her, that she might express her bitterness for all the town to read.