Francine's reply was one of readiness. Whatever The Shadow proposed, she would carry through. From beneath his cloak, The Shadow brought a folded paper. He explained its purpose.
"A supposed threat," he stated, "from the crooks who failed to gain your jewels. They promise harm to George unless you give them the gems. You refuse to do so; but you are willing to stay out of sight and keep your brother with you. He will have to agree."
Francine gave a determined smile. She would handle George. All that she needed was the hiding place.
In whispered tone, The Shadow gave an address. He extended a key; Francine took it, with the note.
She saw The Shadow turn; he was gone into the blackness of the bedroom.
Francine gave a slight gasp as she relaxed. The thought struck her that all had been imagined; yet in her hand she held the note and the key. Warily, Francine stepped into the bedroom and turned on the light.
The room was empty.
Startled, Francine went to the window; it was closed. She opened it.
From somewhere in the darkness of the roof below came the faint whisper of a weird, parting laugh. That uncanny mirth produced an odd effect. It gave Francine a sense of reality. In the framed light of the window, the girl nodded. That was her firm answer.
Francine Melrue was ready to follow every instruction that The Shadow had given. When new need came, there would be one person upon whom The Shadow could fully depend.
Francine would be ready, always.
CHAPTER XVI. CRIME TAKES A LOSS
WHEN Hurden arrived in Reddingham's office the next day, he found Francine Melrue with the lawyer.
George was absent; Reddingham explained that the young man was ill. That was why Francine had come to sign the necessary papers, in her brother's stead.
"Sorry about young Melrue," said Hurden. The dapper man pretended concern. "I wanted to invite him to the house tonight. I'm giving a party there, I'd hoped you could come, too, Miss Melrue."
"It would have been impossible," returned Francine, icily. "I had other plans for tonight. As it happens, I have canceled all engagements on account of George."
Reddingham beamed when he heard that statement. The lawyer was pleased because Francine and George were reconciled, He had expected it; for George's interest in selling the house was indication that the young man was listening to Francine's advice. Perhaps George was settling down to a more sensible existence.
"Maybe you could come up to the house, Mr. Reddingham," persisted Hurden. "There'll be some real people there. I've got a lot of influential friends, you know."
Reddingham hemmed an excuse. The dyspeptic old attorney did not like late hours. Hurden turned to another person present: Louis Caudrey. He asked:
"Can't you drop in this evening?"
Caudrey hesitated; then decided to accept the invitation. When Hurden had departed with the title deed to the purchased mansion, Francine expressed her thanks to Caudrey.
"You ended that fellow's persistence," said the girl. "He was determined that someone accept his invitation. I'm sorry, though, that you had to sacrifice yourself on our account."
"Caudrey won't have to go there," declared Reddingham. "He simply chose a tactful way of avoiding an unpleasant argument. I should have used the same procedure myself."
Caudrey smiled as he reached for a sheet of figures. He was here to make a final balance of the estate's books.
"Don't worry about me," he said. "I shall call at the house, because I promised to do so. It will not be difficult to find an excuse for leaving early."
Francine left Reddingham's office; Caudrey departed soon afterward. On the way out, the plotting actuary indulged in pleased thoughts. His acceptance of Hurden's invitation was part of a neat game.
It gave Caudrey sufficient excuse for a visit to the old mansion. Caudrey felt that he had put one over on Reddingham and Francine.
Francine had been the real test; for she was smart. Much smarter than her brother George, in Caudrey's opinion. That judgment was more accurate than Caudrey realized. Francine had given proof of cleverness that the crooked actuary had not even suspected.
She had shown the faked threat note to George. That weak-kneed chap had caved when he saw it. He had wanted to hide somewhere, and Francine had told him of a place - the little, secluded apartment that The Shadow had chosen.
So anxious was George to get under cover that he had gladly accepted Francine's offer to visit Reddingham's office and handle the sale of the mansion.
That was the sort of cooperation that The Shadow had expected from Francine. The sooner George was out of sight, the better. The less he knew, the more it would help The Shadow.
THERE were servants in the old Melrue mansion, all that day. They were picked men, provided to make sure that nothing went amiss. Like Hurden, they had no inkling of the mansion's secret. When evening arrived, guests appeared and sat down to an elaborate dinner.
Hurden was a good stooge. He had many acquaintances who knew nothing of his underhand ways; and he had managed to produce a prosperous banker and a well-known Wall Street man among his guests.
When Marvin Bradthaw appeared, he did not seem out of place. His presence simply hoisted the estimate that the guests held regarding Hurden.
At nine o'clock, Bradthaw decided to leave. That started the others on their way; but an incident delayed Bradthaw. Strampf arrived and asked to see Mr. Bradthaw. Strampf was carrying a portfolio under his arm.
"More business," smiled Bradthaw, with a shake of his head. "It pursues me everywhere. Sometimes I escape it by not telling the office where I am. Very well, Strampf, what is it?"
"Those casualty reports, sir. You wanted them as soon as they were ready for you -"
"I remember." Bradthaw turned to shake hands with the other guests. Then: "Very well, Strampf. I can look at the reports when we are in the car."
Hurden suggested that Bradthaw use the upstairs study for his chat with Strampf. Bradthaw accepted.
Once in the study, he remarked to Strampf:
"We can wait for Caudrey."
"Good," expressed Strampf. His tone was eager. "That gives us time to discuss something that I learned from The Shadow's files. Look at this data, Mr. Bradthaw. All about a black-ray machine that puts electrical apparatus out of commission."
Bradthaw's eyebrows lifted as he read the typed pages. They included the history of the device, telling how the machine produced a total blot-out, wherever it was projected.
"Crooks used it before," observed Bradthaw. "They can use it again. Just the thing for us to turn over to the proper man. Have you found any details of the device?"
Strampf reached over to turn the pages that Bradthaw had. He pointed to carefully written notations on the last sheet.
"The machine exists," stated the cadaverous man. "Those notes mention where it is stored. Also that Burbank knows the details of its operation."
"Acquire it," ordered Bradthaw. "See that it reaches Burbank."
"I have arranged for that."
"Be careful that the carriers leave no trail."
"It will pass through half a dozen hands."
"And watch Burbank. He may try to trick you."
"Burbank will be handled!"
Strampf's tone was emphatic. It carried the tone that Bradthaw liked. The crime profiteer returned the papers. Before Bradthaw could resume the conversation, Caudrey entered.
"Hurden got rid of the rest of the guests," informed Caudrey. "All the fake servants are posted. When do we begin?"
"Right away," decided Bradthaw. "You and Strampf can do the work."
THERE were tools in the study closet, left there at Strampf's order. Strampf and Caudrey began to hack at the wall while Bradthaw watched them. They chipped the plaster beneath the heavy wallpaper.