Its derisive tones spelled triumph. Again, they sounded, seemingly in the distance.
Cliff understood the meaning. That cry meant that The Shadow had escaped across the housetops. Lost among the odd-shaped roofs of the Montmartre, the avenger from the dark had shaken off his pursuers and returned to the security of night.
Senov — Motkin — The Shadow. The leaders of three groups had met here. Senov’s forces had been slaughtered. Motkin’s had been routed, leaving their dead behind them.
But The Shadow had triumphed. His lone aid had been rescued. Fighting single-handed, the figure in black was free, once more pursuing the quest of the stolen gems!
CHAPTER XVII. ON THE GASCONNE
THE steamship Gasconne was three nights out from Cherbourg. The huge liner was plowing through a calm sea. It had been a quiet, enjoyable trip for even the most apprehensive passengers.
A young man came walking along a passage that ended at the side of the ship. It was David Tholbin, attired in a well-fitted Tuxedo. He paused before the last door on the left and knocked. In response to a call from within, he opened the door, and entered a large stateroom.
Tobias Waddell and his daughter Betty were seated in the stateroom. The millionaire waved in greeting as Tholbin entered. The young man had worked his way into Waddell’s good graces, during this trip.
“You seem to like this stateroom,” said Tholbin, with a smile. “You have been here all evening.”
“A very fine stateroom,” responded Waddell. “You picked it out for me. I haven’t forgotten that fact.”