“Remember!” came the whispered voice.
The millionaire watched the figure as it moved noiselessly toward the side of the room. It disappeared in the darkness by the window.
Then The Shadow was gone, into the night, without a single sound of his departure.
Lamont Cranston laughed nervously. A great tension had left him; but that last whispered warning seemed to live in his brain. He turned out the light, and went to sleep.
In his dreams he seemed to see a tall black figure, that whispered the single significant word:
“Remember!”
CHAPTER VIII
SPOTTER MEETS A FRIEND
A short, stooped man, with thin body and cunning, wicked face, entered that den of the underworld known as the Black Ship. His keen, beady eyes made a quick survey of every person in the room, from the man behind the bar to a drunken mobsmen who lay across a table in the corner.
“Hello, Spotter,” said the proprietor.