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The Shadow waited, watching the struggle. He couldn't risk shots at the moment; he was depending upon his agents to handle themselves in their usual competent style. Probably they would have done so, if the waiters hadn't mixed in it. As it was, the fight became a free-for-all.

Bugs and two pals dragged Pinkey out through the side door, the brawling figures shielding them against The Shadow's aim. That get-away made the waiters

realize that the real trouble-makers were in flight.

They took up the chase, out through the alleyway, leaving The Shadow's agents in control, with one man of Bugs Hopton's crew lying limp and helpless.

The Shadow saw that further pursuit would be useless. Bugs had managed an escape, and had taken Pinkey with him. Probably they had a waiting car in readiness.

It was time for The Shadow to make his own departure, taking his agents with him; and the best route would be through a window of one of the little dining rooms. That was why The Shadow's sibilant tone gave quick command for his agents to join him on the balcony.

As they arrived, The Shadow observed a forgotten figure. Maude Revelle lay

dazed upon the floor. The Shadow told the agents to take her with them, and added brief instructions. They hurried through a little room, just as a squad of police arrived at the front entrance to The Hayrick.

The officers saw The Shadow fading into a doorway. They shouted for him to

halt, and followed the order with a rapid volley. Those shots were wide of their

mark. With their echoes came the trailing tone of The Shadow's parting laugh.

OUTSIDE The Hayrick, Pinkey and his carriers had vanished. Police whistles

were sounding everywhere. The Shadow's agents found themselves confronted with a

difficult task, for they had to make their own departure and carry Maude with them.

They were aided, though, by shots that took the police in the wrong direction. The Shadow had provided those shots, knowing that they would draw the officers away. By the time the police reached the spot where the shots had been fired, The Shadow was gone.

Two blocks away, a pair of The Shadow's agents crept through the darkness,

taking Maude with them. The girl had recovered her wits; she supposed that these

men were two of Pinkey's followers. They reached the street, to hear the sound of a police siren. Maude shrank back.

One of the men nudged the girl, pointing to a limousine parked near the curb. Maude nodded, then made dash for it. She reached the limousine and climbed hurriedly aboard. The chauffeur didn't notice her; he was looking across the street aboard toward a little cigar store.

A tall man strode from the store and entered the limousine. He spoke quietly through the speaking tube; the big car started forward. Then, lighting a cigarette, the owner of the limousine turned to look beside him. For the first time, apparently, he noticed Maude.

The girl became breathless. She felt she could trust this calm-faced stranger whose well-tailored evening clothes gave him the mark of a gentleman.

Maude gripped the man's arm.

"You've got to trust me," she pleaded. "Honest - I'm on the level! My name

is Maude Revelle. I was in The Hayrick, when a lot of shooting started."

"I am quite pleased to know you, Miss Revelle," returned the owner of the limousine. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Lamont Cranston. You are quite welcome to share my limousine" - he broke off, suddenly, to utter through the speaking tube, "Come, Stanley!... What is the delay?"

The big car had jolted to a stop. Stanley didn't have to explain why. A heavy-jowled patrolman was opening the door, to poke a flashlight inside.

"What is the trouble, officer?"

Cranston's quiet query brought the flashlight in his own direction. The cop mumbled that there had been a riot; that they were looking for a girl who had helped start it. He turned the flashlight toward Maude; eyed her suspiciously as she shrank away.

"Don't be frightened, Maude," soothed Cranston. He tendered a card to the patrolman. "My name is Lamont Cranston. I am a friend of Police Commissioner Weston."

"And this lady?"

"She is Miss Maude Revelle. Please do not delay us, officer. You see these

tickets?" Cranston held them in the light. "I am taking Miss Revelle to the opera, and we are anxious to reach there before curtain time."

A MINUTE later, the limousine was rolling clear of the police cordon.

Maude's big eyes were full of admiration, as they turned toward Cranston.

"Gee, you're swell!" exclaimed the girl. "Helping me out of a jam, the way

you did! Maybe I'd be a lot better off if I'd met up with real guys like you, instead of some of the mugs I've known."

Cranston's gaze showed a sympathetic interest that caused Maude to say more.

"I tried to help a fellow out tonight" - Maude's tone was bitter; she was thinking of Pinkey - "and he left me to scramble for myself. Maybe he's a right

guy, but he's in the wrong racket, whatever it is. Only, I'm not the sort that blabs."

The car stopped at a traffic light. Maude reached for the door, intending to alight. Cranston's hand restrained her; his voice was persuasive.

"I told the officers that I was taking you to the opera. I might have to prove that story."

Maude settled back in the cushions her eyes were eager.

"You mean that?" she exclaimed. "You'll take me to the opera with all the other swells?"

The Shadow nodded. The limousine rolled ahead; Maude felt herself riding in air. She didn't realize that keen eyes were watching her, grasping the thoughts that she betrayed by her facial expressions.

Maude was getting something that she really wanted: a chance to appear among fashionable people, as one of them. She wasn't a selfish sort; but the joy of that triumph made her so, for the present. She wanted to feel that Cranston had invited her to the opera because he liked her.

Maude made that plain, as they stepped from the limousine in front of the opera.

"If I go with you," she remarked, "I won't be cutting out someone else, will I?"

From her tone, The Shadow knew that Maude hoped she was doing just that.

He gave the slight smile that was typical of Cranston.

"I was to meet a lady here," he said, "but she can go with other friends, who asked her to join their party. I would prefer your company, Miss Revelle."

"Do you see this lady you're telling me about?"

"Yes. Over there."

The girl that The Shadow pointed out was the most attractive young woman in sight; and that was quite a distinction, for the lobby thronged with beautiful femininity. She was waiting for someone, and it could very well have been Cranston. Maude certainly thought that it was Cranston.

Penning a note, The Shadow showed it to Maude. She was pleased when she read: "Sorry, Eleanor. I am escorting another lady this evening: Lamont."

Folding the note, The Shadow gave it to an attendant. Adding a dollar bill

as tip, he pointed out the lady to whom the note was to be delivered. Maude saw

all that; what she didn't observe was the note itself.

The Shadow held it loosely, so that air reached the drying ink. The message faded before he gave it a final fold. The Shadow had used the special ink that he employed when sending orders to his agents.

The girl across the lobby looked puzzled when she opened the message. For a moment, her gaze became as blank as the paper itself. Then, supposing that someone had played a practical joke, she crumpled the paper and threw it away, staring about angrily as she did so.

By that time The Shadow was escorting Maude into the opera house. Maude had seen the other girl's piqued expression, and it had pleased her. Maude was smiling triumphantly when she and her escort reached the Golden Horseshoe.