A smile appeared upon the lips of Henry Arnaud. Those lips moved slowly, as Arnaud gave his reply.
“I saw your automobile waiting behind the armored car,” he said. “It offered a convenient refuge. I shattered the searchlight with a shot, and dropped from the second floor. Fortunately, I had sufficient strength to reach your automobile. I must thank you for having it there at my disposal.”
Motkin seemed annoyed as he strode to the corner of the room and opened an old cabinet. He drew out The Shadow’s cloak and hat, and held them up to the window.
“These are yours, Mr. Arnaud?” he asked.
“They are,” declared Arnaud calmly. “Again I must thank you, Mr. Motkin. It was kind of you to bring them along, after I had lost them.”
“How do you know my name?” demanded Motkin.
“I heard your man mention it,” said Arnaud. “Your name is also familiar to me. In New York, I heard it mentioned by a man named Marcus Holtmann.”
A wild, startled look spread over Motkin’s countenance. He viewed Henry Arnaud with alarm. Motkin had feared that some indiscretion of his own had paved the way to the attack on the secret vault. Until now he had not been able to check the exact source of the leak. The mention of Holtmann’s name worried him. His only recourse was rage and threat.
“Holtmann betrayed me!” he shouted furiously. “He told you of the vault’s location, so that you could come here and direct the attack. You are to blame for this! You will suffer!”
HENRY ARNAUD was not in the least perturbed by Motkin’s outburst. His cold eyes were fixed upon the official’s face. Motkin’s furor began to disappear. A worried scowl took its place, and Henry Arnaud smiled. That smile did not soothe Motkin’s worries.