He felt the window shade as he stood in a darkened hall. Yes, it was torn! This must be the house!
Cliff was keyed to action. Now, however, he regretted that in his zeal he had failed to call The Shadow. He must work alone tonight — that was all — work to rescue those who were in Killer Durgan’s toils!
There were two doors in the hall. They were set side by side in the wall. Each door had a heavy bolt. These could well be cell-like rooms, such as Madge had mentioned.
Cliff paused at the nearest door. He drew back the bolt, which was scarcely visible in the darkness. Clutching his automatic, he opened the door cautiously. He was looking into a lighted room, furnished with a cot and a few chairs.
On the cot sat a girl, her head resting upon her hand. She was alone. Cliff entered and closed the door noiselessly. He approached. The girl looked up and suppressed a startled cry.
“Arline!” whispered Cliff.
A sudden recognition dawned upon the girl. Before she could respond, Cliff had gripped her shoulders and had raised her to her feet. He kissed her, with all the ardor of forgotten years; then, suddenly, he stepped away and bowed his head.
“Forgive me, Arline,” he said. “Forgive me. I forgot—”
“Forgot what, Cliff?” The girl was clinging to him, now. She was looking up with tear-dimmed, pleading eyes.
“Forgot that I’m a jailbird,” said Cliff bitterly. “Just out of Sing Sing — a few weeks ago—”