High in one of those Manhattan towers sat a placid, round-faced man who seemed oblivious to the sights outside. He was busy at a desk in his private office, studying lists of stocks and bonds. He was Rutledge Mann, a quiet, methodical investment broker.
A stenographer announced a visitor. Mann studied a card that bore the name of George Dalavan. The visitor was unknown to Mann; nevertheless, the investment broker ordered the girl to show Mr. Dalavan into the private office.
Dalavan entered. His lips held a slight smile beneath his clipped mustache. In every deal that he made, Dalavan liked to meet men who looked easy to handle. Mann belonged in that category, according to Dalavan's estimate.
It was Dalavan's belief that Purvis Elger had gained information regarding certain securities through the guests on Timour Isle, for they were people of wealth. Dalavan had wondered why Elger had sent word to negotiate through one particular broker; and upon seeing Mann, Dalavan thought he had the answer.
The transactions probably required a broker who would not suspect that a big deal was under way. Mann appeared too dull a person to catch on to any smooth work.
"I came to talk about investments," informed Dalavan. "I was told that you might know about them. What facts can you give me about Argentum Silver?"
A SLIGHT flicker of surprise appeared upon Mann's rounded features. It ended as the investment broker smiled and leaned beck in his chair. Mann's answer was so complacent that it finished the slight suspicion that flashed through Dalavan's mind.
"Argentum Silver," announced Mann, "was a freak issue that has disappeared from sale. At what price were you advised to buy it?"
"At nineteen."
"No wonder your friend recommended it. Argentum Silver was snapped up at twenty-seven. It cannot be had at nineteen."
Dalavan looked disappointed; then he stated:
"I was also advised to purchase Eastern Zinc, Incorporated, at twelve and one quarter."
"That could have been done," returned Mann. "Eastern Zinc was a good buy at that figure. However, the stock is off the market. Eastern Zinc was recently absorbed."
"What about Consolidated Securities?"
Mann nodded as he heard Dalavan's question. The investment broker seemed pleased by his customer's interest in that stock.
"Consolidated Securities is as yet unlisted," stated Mann. "I understand that all has been subscribed; but there are option holders who would sell small blocks at a reasonable profit. It is something of a speculative offer; but I can advise you definitely when I have obtained a late report on the stock. Where could I reach you later today?"
"At my hotel," replied Dalavan. "I am stopping at the Bonzell. Room 1214."
Mann made a notation on a desk pad.
"You will hear from me by five o'clock," he told Dalavan. He glanced at his watch. "I shall go downstairs with you, Mr. Dalavan, as it is my lunch hour. I expect to meet some brokers during lunch and will make initial inquires when I talk with them."
The two left the office and descended to the street. Dalavan headed toward Times Square; Mann took the opposite direction. As soon as he was out of Dalavan's sight, Mann hailed a cab.
SHORTLY afterward, Mann reached a modest apartment house. He rang a bell that bore the name Slade Farrow. He was admitted promptly to an apartment; there, he shook hands with a keen-faced, middle-aged man whose eyes showed a gleam of interest when they spied Mann. It was plain that Farrow saw something unusual in this visit.
"Mr. Farrow," stated Mann, in a careful tone, "I have come here on a matter which concerns The Shadow. Both of us have served him. Posing as an investment broker, I work for The Shadow. Your part has been a different one. As a criminologist, you have knowledge of the underworld. In times of emergency, you have supplied able workers to The Shadow. Men who were once crooks, but who have gone straight."
"They are always ready when The Shadow needs them."
"He requires them at present."
Farrow's eyes gleamed with interest at Mann's statement. He waited while the investment broker paused, then listened intently as Mann resumed.
"A few weeks ago," declared Mann, in a confidential tone, "The Shadow left New York. You will be surprised to learn that he had no motive in doing so other than to enjoy a needed rest. Crime seemed in abeyance, here in New York. It was a logical time for The Shadow to take a vacation."
Farrow nodded in agreement.
"The Shadow informed me," resumed Mann, "that he intended to cruise aboard the yacht Maldah, as a guest of the owner, Kingdon Feldworth."
"The Maldah!" exclaimed Farrow. "That yacht has been reported missing. You mean The Shadow is aboard?"
"The Shadow was aboard," replied Mann. "But it is apparent that he has come safely ashore from the yacht. I received a message from him today."
"Through whom?"
"Through a man whom I must class as an enemy, until I learn more about him."
SLADE FARROW was dumfounded by the investment broker's statement. Word received through an enemy. It passed belief. Incredible though The Shadow's methods were, this startling revelation surpassed all that Farrow had known in the past.
"A short while ago," explained Mann, "a suave visitor named George Dalavan came into my office and inquired regarding stock issued by the Argentum Silver Mines. No such stock exists. The mention of it means that Dalavan is to be watched. He is a criminal."
"His identity is known to The Shadow?" inquired Farrow.
"Perhaps," returned Mann. "Perhaps not. I merely know that Argentum Silver Mines is the key to check upon the man who made the inquiry. But that was only part of the information that Dalavan unwittingly brought me.
"He also mentioned a stock called Eastern Zinc, Incorporated. He quoted two figures: nineteen and twelve and one quarter. Those do not fit in with any prearranged code with the exception that Zinc signifies The Shadow.
"It seems logical that under the circumstances, The Shadow is anxious to communicate his location. Furthermore, Dalavan referred to an unknown stock called Consolidated Securities. The term Consolidated refers to The Shadow's agents, with whom I have contact. Evidently he requires their aid."
Slade Farrow smiled in meditative fashion. Eyeing the criminologist, Mann caught what was in Farrow's mind.
"The Shadow relies upon you in cases of emergency," asserted the investment broker. "I have previously been instructed to call upon you in time of perplexity. Evidently, The Shadow resorted to some device to convey an additional message. One that he believes you can solve."
Farrow arose and paced across the room. He was considering all that Mann had told him. At length the criminologist paused to face the investment broker.
"Mann," declared Farrow, "I am working on the assumption which you have gained: namely, that The Shadow is subtly trying to tell us where he is. It is obvious that he has landed from the crippled yacht. He might be anywhere between here and the Florida Keys.
"Assuming that he knows his own location, the first information that he would give might be the name of the State where he has come ashore. As I recall it" - Farrow paused as he plucked an almanac from the desk and thumbed the pages - "the nineteenth State in point of size is Georgia. Yes" - again a pause - "that is correct. Georgia is the nineteenth. That is where The Shadow is."
"Somewhere on the Georgia coast!"
"Exactly." Farrow was bringing out an atlas. "His reference to Eastern Zinc is probably a reminder of that fact. By use of the word Eastern, he emphasized that point. So from the number twelve and one quarter we must learn his exact location."
FARROW opened the atlas to a map of Georgia. He ran his finger along the coast line. Mann looked on, a trifle glum, for he could not see how the criminologist could manage to locate the right spot. Farrow's chuckle, however, showed that the man had an idea.