While Cady waited, The Shadow had approached the cottage, to make his own observations. Lifting sash and raising shade an inch, he had spied two men within — Cyrus Barbier and Tony Cumo. The pair of rogues were about to leave for the silverware factory.
Cady, too, learned of this a few minutes later. The cottage light went out. Two vague forms appeared against the whiteness of the porch. The men were following an accustomed path.
Cady took up the trail.
The sleuth was a capable worker. Neither Barbier nor Cumo sensed that a man was following. Cady also was in ignorance that some one was on his trail. Like a haunting specter, The Shadow followed close behind the detective.
The two men reached an obscure spot at the side of the factory. Cady heard their mumbling talk as they unlocked a little door.
It was here that the detective played a game that was both daring and successful. Slipping through the dark, he arrived at the door just as the men entered and let it come shut on a spring.
Cady’s hands were gloved. The detective let his fingers serve as a door stop. The ruse was painful, but it kept the door from closing tightly.
The Shadow saw this from the dark. Less than a dozen feet away, he observed the detective’s hand against the edge of the dim door. He watched Cady enter.
When the door closed again, The Shadow stopped it more efficiently than had the detective.
Following the trail of the men ahead, Cady was surprised to find himself in the dimness of a large private office. He passed into a corridor, caught a glimpse of Barbier and Cumo, and kept onward until he saw the men disappear through a heavy door in an obscure corner of the factory building.
Here, Cady lingered. He could not pass this door; he was sure, however, that something important lay beyond. Minutes went by while Cady laid his ear against the door.
Suddenly, the detective raised his head. He had heard no sound, but he had felt the vibration of what he thought must be machinery!
Could these men be the counterfeiters? Had they deliberately installed themselves in an unused portion of Foulkrod Kendall’s plant? Cady stepped away from the door, and hurried back to the private office. He tried the telephone, found that it was connected, and called the New Avalon Hotel.
THE SHADOW, all this while, had shaded Cady with amazing skill. Not once had the black-garbed form appeared in complete view. A splotch of black upon the floor — a strange silhouette against the wall — a solid shape that seemed a part of ordinary darkness — such were the manifestations of The Shadow’s presence.
Concealed in the gloom of Foulkrod Kendall’s private office, The Shadow heard Cady inquiring over the telephone for Mr. Marquette. He was evidently informed that the man was out, but would soon return. In a low voice, Cady gave instructions for Marquette to await his arrival.
The sleuth seemed pleased when he had completed the call. Evidently, Cady did not like the atmosphere of this office because of the possibilities that he might be discovered. He stole away toward the outer door. When the detective had disappeared, the atmosphere of the room seemed to fill with a sinister shudder.
The silent laugh of The Shadow! The master of darkness knew where Donald Cady had gone. The sleuth had left a car not far from the factory; now he was on his way to visit with Vic Marquette.
That was to The Shadow’s liking. The black-garbed phantom knew well that Marquette would not act with haste. No one would be molested here tonight.
The pending interview between Cady and Marquette was not important to The Shadow. The master had other work to perform. Vincent had discovered Marquette; Marquette had called on Cady; Cady had found two potential men of crime. The Shadow intended to learn more.
Quickly, though silently, The Shadow moved toward that obscure corner of the plant where Cyrus Barbier and Tony Cumo had gone.
The soundproof door was a formidable obstacle. It had two massive locks, but these were no barriers to The Shadow. The click of steel was audible as the black-gloved hand pressed a thin, pointed implement against the lock. Less than a minute later, the first bar was opened.
With the same precision, The Shadow picked the second lock. The door moved slowly open. Sharp eyes saw another barrier. The Shadow advanced.
Here was another lock. The Shadow handled it silently, although his ears told him that the men within could not hear him at work. The dull rumble of machinery was apparent from the outside of this second door.
The inner barrier opened inch by inch. The Shadow’s eye spied through a tiny crevice.
Barbier and Cumo were in sight. Goggled, the old man was watching the machine. Tony Cumo was bringing up a new supply of silver for the stamping process.
Glittering disks were bouncing in a silvery flood. The sight of the white metal was enough. The door closed and locked. The Shadow’s laugh was low, yet unrepressed.
He had discovered the lair of the counterfeiters. The Shadow knew the game in which Foulkrod Kendall and Silk Elverton were engaged together as partners!
Swiftly, The Shadow departed, past the outer barrier, through Kendall’s private office, out from the factory. His gliding form swung through the darkness, along the road, to a secluded spot where a trim coupe was parked off the side of the highway.
A gibing laugh resounded through the night.
The Shadow’s taunt was well timed. He had uncovered the tools of crime; he had not disturbed them in their work. His course was taking him to the home of Foulkrod Kendall.
From now on, this millionaire plotter would be The Shadow’s quarry. The mansion was the home of crime.
In that surmise, The Shadow was correct. An unexpected turn of circumstances was developing new consequences.
Before this evening ended, the hand of crime was destined to reveal itself!
CHAPTER XV
THE HAND OF CRIME
THE SHADOW, in all his amazing adventures, never neglected the human element. His keen brain always analyzed possibilities. With all its power, however, The Shadow’s mind could not cover the entire range of possible coincidences.
When Detective Donald Cady had left the silverware factory, his purpose had been to go straight to the New Avalon Hotel. The Shadow had divined that fact. He knew that Cady had a simple duty ahead, and that the sleuth intended to perform it.
A freak of chance was destined to change the course of action. Cady, driving along the highway, was so wrapped in thought of what he had discovered that he turned left instead of right when he reached the peculiar fork in the road near Foulkrod Kendall’s home.
Before the detective realized it, his car was approaching the stone pillars that indicated the millionaire’s mansion. Cady stopped his car, pulled between the pillars, and prepared to go into reverse. Then, his proximity to Kendall’s home struck him with a new thought.
Cady had agreed to work for Vic Marquette. He had promised to say nothing to other members of the local police force. This promise, however, did not bind him to keep his discoveries secret from a man of high repute who was being victimized, so Cady thought, by counterfeiters.
Foulkrod Kendall!
The millionaire was the most important figure in New Avalon. What would he say when he learned of the doings in his plant?
Cady began to vision complications. He knew that he must play fair with Marquette; at the same time, he could curry favor with Kendall.
Acting upon this thought, Cady drove along the driveway, and pulled up at the side of Kendall’s home. He extinguished the lights on his car. He went to the front door of the millionaire’s mansion, announced himself to the servant who answered the door, and was immediately admitted to Kendall’s living room.
Foulkrod Kendall was talking to a guest — Doctor Conrad Guyon. The millionaire advanced to shake hands with Detective Cady. The sleuth, in an undertone, mumbled that he would like a private interview. Kendall turned to Guyon.