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“What! The mechanic with Dadren?”

“The same. He was in the plot. He came with the gang because he could point out Vincent. Those bandits were fakes. They were after the briefcase that contained the plans.”

“This seems incredible! Yet we can rely upon Vincent’s statement.”

“Exactly, senator. It’s a good break that the news was kept out of the newspapers. That’s why I want it all to remain quiet. Let the public think that Commander Dadren crashed.”

“But if he was actually kidnapped, the law should know—”

“The law does know. I shall report to my superior. Leave this to the Secret Service, senator. It’s our best chance to find Dadren.”

Senator Releston considered Vic’s statement. At last, he nodded his consent.

“For the present, Marquette,” he said, “I shall agree to your suggestion. If you fail to gain results, I shall reverse my decision. The case is in your hands for the time being.”

Vic Marquette smiled in satisfaction. He nodded as he turned to Harry Vincent. The game was on. Vic and Harry were installed. They had begun their duty as guardians at the spot where new crime must surely strike.

CHAPTER XIV

REPORTS RECEIVED

FIVE days had passed since Harry Vincent’s arrival in Washington. Air scouts had combed the region south of Washington. They had gained no sign of Commander Dadren’s lost amphibian. The disappearance of the former naval officer was no longer news. It was classed publicly as another tragedy of the air.

High in a Washington hotel, a calm-faced personage was seated at a table, reading a message inscribed in blue-inked code. Keen eyes studied the written lines, eyes that burned from a hawklike visage. They watched the bluish code words fade.

This was The Shadow. Registered under the name of Henry Arnaud, he was staying in Washington. The fading message was a report from Harry Vincent. Like all communications between The Shadow and his agents, it was written in ink that vanished, thanks to a formula of The Shadow’s creation.

As at Cedar Cove, Harry had found nothing amiss. He and Vic Marquette were constantly on duty, along with Stollart and the servants. They had checked on the various visitors who had come to Senator Releston’s. None had aroused their suspicions.

Harry’s report struck one sour note. That concerned the attitude of Senator Ross Releston. In his agreement with Vic Marquette’s plan, Releston had specified a temporary arrangement, dependent upon progress in the finding of Commander Dadren. Vic, counting upon a move by the enemy, had made no step in the search for the missing flier.

Hence Senator Releston had openly announced that the time limit was nearly up. Soon — whether Vic liked it or not — the senator intended to make public certain facts regarding Dadren’s invention. The result would be a nationwide man-hunt.

Harry had passed this news along to The Shadow. It brought no worriment to The Shadow’s masklike visage. Dropping the blank report sheets into a wastebasket, The Shadow laughed softly. Staring from the window, he studied the varied vista of the national capital. His eyes gleamed.

Somewhere close at hand lay the master plotter. Well did The Shadow know that the unknown enemy would not be far. Though Eric Hildrow had managed to keep his identity from The Shadow, he had failed to cover up his methods.

At Death Island, at Cedar Cove, Hildrow had utilized an excellent spy system. Traitors had aided him in his attacks upon Professor Whitburn and Commander Dadren. When he chose to open a drive on Senator Releston, new minions would be on hand to aid him. The fact that Harry Vincent had discovered no spy at Releston’s was not surprising to The Shadow. Hildrow’s men were capable hands when it came to covering up their work.

The Shadow suspected a traitor at Releston’s. Stollart, Smedley or Williston — any one of the three might be the man. It was also possible that some regular visitor — Harry had listed more than a dozen of the senator’s friends — could be the agent used by Hildrow.

But nothing could be gained by uncovering the traitor. The Shadow had learned conclusively that Hildrow kept his real identity from the men who worked for him. The unmasking of a new spy would lead to a blind ending.

The Shadow was playing a waiting game. That was why he liked Harry Vincent’s news. If Senator Releston raised a hue and cry, Hildrow’s task of gaining the plans would be toughened. The Shadow knew that Hildrow — the unknown — was probably receiving reports that matched those sent by Harry Vincent.

IN all his surmises, The Shadow was correct. On this very afternoon, Eric Hildrow, guised as himself, was standing by the window of a living room apartment. He, too, was staring out over the city of Washington.

A knock sounded at the door. Hildrow answered it to admit Marling. His chunky aid was glum. He passed a letter to his chief.

“From Stollart,” informed Marling. “Addressed to J. T. Ushwell, general delivery window at the Arlington post office—”

“I can read the address,” interposed Hildrow, testily. “You’ve read the letter; give me your opinion while I’m reading it.”

“The senator’s going to spread the news,” declared Marling. “That’s enough trouble, isn’t it? Meanwhile, Marquette and Vincent are hanging about. There’s no chance to crack that vault. If Stollart could only get the combination—”

“He never will,” put in Hildrow. “Even if he did, a raid on the Hotel Barlingham would be a mistake. Gunmen would be good hands to aid a getaway—”

“Well, if Stollart opened the vault, he’d be ready for a getaway.”

“He would be stopped before he started. No, Marling, I have been waiting solely for another purpose.”

“To trick The Shadow?”

“Yes. He is our most powerful enemy.”

There was a short pause. While Hildrow speculated, Marling grunted.

“Maybe The Shadow’s still on Death Island,” he declared. “There’s been no sign of Whitburn; and you locked The Shadow in with him. Probably they’re both dead—”

“Don’t be a fool!” snarled Hildrow, turning his pasty face toward Marling. “Do you think that was Bragg that shot up the mob in the Hotel Halcyon? What about the fellow who dropped in on the Northern Express? He got Wenshell and Hasker, didn’t he?”

“Yes. It looked very much like The Shadow—”

“It was The Shadow! He’s here in Washington. He knows that I’ve got to make another move. I’ve been outwaiting him, that’s all. But only because I did not want to press matters. Never be too quick with any scheme, Marling, no matter how effective it may seem. Sometimes, a change of the wind may bring a new idea.”

“Well, the wind’s changed, chief.”

“Hardly. This action of Releston’s was to be expected. It merely means that I must utilize the plan that I have been holding for such an emergency.”

“You’re going to Releston’s yourself?”

Hildrow chuckled.

“I have been there, Marling,” he declared, “as myself. Simply to talk about international trade relations. To emphasize the personality of Eric Hildrow. I am going to pay further visits to our friend the senator.

“But when I go to get the plans, it will be in another guise. One that Releston — or any one else — will never suspect. That, however, will come later, Marling. The immediate job is to forestall the senator’s present intention. He must be weaned from his idea of starting a search for Commander Dadren.”

“How can you stop him from doing that?” inquired Marling.

“Through Dadren,” chuckled Hildrow. “Marling, bring me that set of diagram tracings.”

“The photostatic copies that you made?”