He remembered his capture dimly. The torture was a vivid recollection. Cardona's weakened, aching shoulders were a strong reminder.
But the rescue was a haze. A tall man, whose face Cardona had only glimpsed, had effected his delivery from death. Cardona awoke to the knowledge that only one man could have accomplished it — The Shadow!
Cardona spied a small package lying on the desk. With numbed fingers, he opened it. From within, he produced a bunch of violets.
A new message from The Shadow!
It was the first since Cincinnati, Cardona thought. He did not know that a warning message had gone astray the night before — a message with three brief words that would have kept him from walking into the unexpected danger which had beset him.
With fumbling fingers, the detective found the disk. It bore these words: To-Night
Headquarters New York
Cardona realized now why he had been called at ten o'clock. He could reach New York by eight to-night, if he took the noon plane from Chicago.
Hastily, the detective dressed and packed. He reached the airport in time for the plane. Still dazed, he watched the outskirts of the city drop away, and saw the broad expanse of Lake Michigan spread away into the smoky haze.
In Cardona's pockets were the notes of all the information he had gathered on this trip. Scattered facts, which had significance, yet which required more to make them complete and useful. Cardona's thoughts flew ahead of him to New York. What awaited there?