On receiving a fifth order from the detective, the waiter, before filling it, took the proprietor of the place into a consultation.
Shadow's grub bill was of a pretty good size, and from his appearance the waiter was in doubt as to whether he was good for the amount, let alone a greater one.
"Show your hand, young feller," remarked the waiter, on returning, before placing the ordered edibles before Shadow.
The latter understood, and a quiet smile began playing about his lips.
Placing his hand in his pocket he took out and ostentatiously laid down a five-dollar bill.
"Good enough!" grunted the waiter, setting down the plates. "Fill up the cavity. I guess I kin fetch the grub as fast as you kin stow it away."
With Shadow's departure from the restaurant we must drop him for a while. But we again introduce him, disguised as a mulatto, as he glided up to the writer of these lines, and, with extended hand, simply said:
"Shadow!"
Was this Shadow?
I could hardly believe my eyes.