He glanced toward the end of the hall. A faint glimmer of dawn showed against the window back of the stairway railing. The night had been crowded with exciting events, and the time had passed more quickly than he realized. Again Mr. Shei’s name was mentioned among the men, and then a hush fell over the group. A door opened at one side of the hall, and in the next instant The Phantom’s eyes widened into a bewildered stare.
The tall man who entered and was received with such marked deference by Slade and the others was none other than Vincent Starr!
A film floated before The Phantom’s eyes. It seemed almost unbelievable at first, but a succession of minor incidents and circumstances that had vaguely puzzled him at times suddenly came back to him in the light of a new significance. He had been blind, he told himself; yet it was no wonder that he had been deceived. His concern for Helen had been uppermost in his mind, and he was forced to admit that Starr had played his game very shrewdly.
The newcomer cast a swift, comprehensive glance up and down the hall, then turned to Slade, and the two engaged in a low-voiced conversation. Now and then Starr mentioned Culligore’s name, and The Phantom gathered from isolated words and phrases that something of an unpleasant nature had happened to the lieutenant. He learned, too, that there had been developments that necessitated quick action on Mr. Shei’s part and that the latter had made a quick motor trip from New York to Azurecrest. The Phantom absorbed these bits of news with interest, but all the time he was studying the characteristic gestures with which Starr emphasized his statements. Once before, while standing in the Thelma Theater, it struck him that there was something familiar about them, and the same impression came to him now. He was searching his memory for half-forgotten facts when Starr suddenly turned round and faced him.
“Surprised?” he inquired, and his smile exposed two rows of flashingly white teeth.
“A little, at first, but I think I understand it all now,” was The Phantom’s nonchalant reply. Then, of a sudden, his figure stiffened. Starr had delivered another of his oddly expressive gestures, and it had started another train of recollections in The Phantom’s mind. “Starr,” he added impulsively, “you were once a member of my organization.”
“Only a very humble one,” admitted Starr, “and it was years back, so it’s no wonder you didn’t recognize me at first. In those days you scarcely noticed me, but I was watching and studying you all the time. There were a lot of melodramatic notions in my head, and The Gray Phantom was my hero. I dreamed of some day eclipsing his achievements, and I think I have succeeded. You see, the Thelma Theater, for all the fun I got out of the experiment, was only a cover for my other and more fascinating activities.”
“My first impression was correct, then,” murmured The Phantom, addressing himself rather than Starr. “I suspected Mr. Shei was a former follower of mine and had learned his methods from me, and that’s why I decided to defeat his purpose and break up his organization. Now I’m doubly glad that I took up the cudgels against you, Starr.”
“Glad?” A puzzled frown crossed Starr’s face. “You are a beaten man, defeated by a once insignificant pupil of yours. Why should you be glad?”
“Defeated?” The Phantom threw back his head and smiled. “Not just yet, Starr. The Gray Phantom doesn’t even know the meaning of the word. Before I drop out of this game you and your crowd will be in jail.”