The Shadow stepped back, his eyes still intent upon the professor. He turned toward the door, and as he did, the door swung inward noiselessly.
A man stood there; a man whose face was obscured by a crimson mask. His hands wore red gloves; and one of them held a leveled automatic.
“Hands up!” came the command from the door.
The Shadow slowly raised his arms. He had apparently been caught unawares. The eyes beneath the mask were watching the figure in black; but they also seemed to look beyond; for they saw the opened molding of the bookcase.
“Do you know me?” questioned the masked man, in a harsh, sarcastic voice.
The Shadow did not reply.
“I am the Red Envoy,” said the man with the crimson mask. “You did not expect me.”
Still no reply.
“So you are The Shadow?” The Red Envoy’s tones carried bitter irony. “The Shadow — whose identity no one knows. I see that you have aided me.
“One of my agents told me to-night that he suspected the bookcase as the hiding place of Professor Whitburn’s papers; but he had not located the exact spot. I must thank you for your work.”