"My father," continued Martha, "is dead. He — he was a suicide."
"He was murdered!"
The Shadow's calm, emphatic tone made the girl sit up in her chair. Wild-eyed, she stared questioningly toward the black-robed figure in the doorway.
Slowly, The Shadow advanced until he stood in the center of the room, tall and imposing, his arms folded before his body.
"You must not fear the truth," he declared, in a low, even monotone. "I cannot change the past. I can control the present. I can alter the future."
Martha nodded in understanding.
"Your father wrote a note before he died," said The Shadow.
"Yes," replied Martha. "I have it — here."
"Let me see it."
The girl arose. She felt no fear. The presence of The Shadow was a realization of her hopes. She went to the dressing table, opened the drawer, and brought out a sheet of paper. She turned directly toward The Shadow and approached him. She was almost face to face with the apparition in black when she stopped. Still, she could not see that hidden countenance. A black-gloved hand came slowly forward. It took the paper from Martha's hand. The girl saw the gleam of The Shadow's eyes. He returned the paper.