“The Shadow! What did he say? Were you sure it was him?”
“I’d know that voice any time,” declared Cardona. He steadied himself and began to copy his scrawled notes.
“Tonight at nine thirty,” read the inspector. “Be ready with a dozen men. Wait until the exact minute. Then proceed to—”
The inspector grunted. “What’s that,” he exclaimed angrily. “A note under the seat of a telephone booth in the cigar store at Broadway and— What is this, Joe, a hoax?”
“It’s a good one if it is,” replied the detective.
“Get up there now and nab the guy that leaves it,” ordered Klein.
“No, chief,” answered Cardona. “We’ve got to play the game. The Shadow has given me his answer. A false step, and he will drop us like a hot penny. Let me handle it the way he wants.”
“All right,” agreed Klein testily, throwing away his chewed cigar and pulling a fresh one from his pocket.
“I’m leaving it up to you! Hop to it!”