The grim-faced man tightened his lips.
“A man of high standing — to the public,” came the ironical tones of the sinister voice. “But at heart a criminal — the leader of a gang of criminals!”
There was no reply.
“The Silent Seven,” repeated the voice, hissing the words. “Each member kept a reminder of his duty. Like Marchand’s dice. Always the number seven. There were seven. Now there is only one the last of the Seven!”
“Who are you?” demanded the man with the scarred face.
“They call me The Shadow,” came the reply. “You thought that I no longer existed — after our struggle on the roof. But I am used to walls, professor. When I go down them, I do not fall. You left me too soon. I came down and found your limousine awaiting you.”
“What do you want of me?”
“You know my purpose.” The Shadow’s voice was significant. “You have captured one of my men. He is in danger. You alone know where he is. I offer you your life in exchange for his. Tell me where he is!”
The leader of the Seven did not reply. He was staring straight ahead, as though he did not hear The Shadow’s words.
“Will you answer me?” came the whispered voice.