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“You’ll get your chance.” Cardona shoved Kelk back into the chair, then added, with a growclass="underline" “Don’t worry about Mr. Verne, here. He’s going to talk to us, all right, while you listen. Get it?”

“Go ahead.” Kelk chuckled as if amused. “Let Verne talk. Maybe he can tell you who has the Cellini manuscript. I’d like to hear him give that bit of information of his own accord.”

Settling back in his chair, Kelk glared at Verne in a mocking fashion, as though challenging the dapper man to talk. Verne smiled.

“Detective Cardona,” said Verne, in a sincere tone, “sometimes a man may carry bluff too far. When he does, it is often difficult to explain his actions afterward. Kelk thinks that I am in such a position.

“In a sense, I am. Nevertheless, I believe that I can handle everything to your full satisfaction. I told you that this prisoner, Kelk, bounded in here with the idea that I had the Cellini manuscript in my possession.

“Oddly, Kelk was right. I do hold the Cellini manuscript. It is where Kelk thought it was.” Verne was producing a key as he spoke. “In this wardrobe trunk. I intend to deliver that important document into your hands.” Verne started to unlock the trunk.

Kelk bounded to his feet, with a warning cry.

“Watch him!” exclaimed the prisoner. “Watch out for treachery! He may have a gun in there!”

“Sit down!” roared Cardona, again thrusting Kelk back into his chair. “Go ahead, Mr. Verne.”

Verne had unlocked the trunk. Only Jurling, gun in hand, was watchful. From the door, Jurling saw Verne dip his hand in a trunk drawer and bring out a long envelope. As Verne opened the envelope and produced a frayed document, Jurling lowered his gun and stepped eagerly forward.

“This,” declared Verne, handing the folio to Cardona, “is the missing Cellini manuscript.”

JOE began to examine the parchment-like sheets. He nodded as he read words in the Italian language. He passed the folio to Jurling — who eyed it eagerly, then shot a puzzled stare at Verne.

“He had it!” The elated cry came from Kelk, again on his feet. “He had it, as I thought! He has produced it! You fool, Verne, you fool!”

Kelk paused in his outburst to deliver a mad chuckle. Then, to Cardona, he exclaimed:

“I can talk now! Listen to me! But first unlock these bracelets. And watch Verne — at all cost — because his game is up!”

Jurling shouldered forward. Holding the manuscript in one hand, he indicated Kelk with the other. Jurling spoke steadily to Cardona.

“Let’s take the prisoner out,” he suggested. “We have the manuscript; that is proof of Mr. Verne’s bona fide status. Kelk is the man you want. Take him down to headquarters, while I go over to the commissioner’s. Verne can come with me.”

“Hold it, Cardona!” broke in Kelk. His tone was a frantic appeal. “Don’t make a blunder. I can talk now; I want to talk. I have statements to make — ones that I can prove. I can tell you my real part in this chain of circumstances.”

“We know your part, Kelk. You’re the crook behind it.”

“Not at all!” There was something firmly decisive in Kelk’s pause. “I can prove who I am. You know my right name: Tully Kelk; but I have used another title. I am Signet!”

A glower showed on Cardona’s face. Jurling snorted his disdain. Oddly, it was Montague Verne who took Kelk’s part.

“Let him try to prove that statement,” suggested the dapper man, to Cardona. “I should like to hear what he has to say. I may be able to furnish testimony of my own after Kelk has spoken.”

“But you are Signet,” put in Joe. “You’ve given us the Cellini manuscript we searched for.”

“I inserted the Signet advertisement in the Classic,” stated Verne, in interruption. “I have played the part of Signet temporarily, because I have been working in behalf of justice. But I am not actually Signet.”

“He admits it,” snapped Kelk. “Hear him? Now will you listen to me?”

Joe turned to Jurling — who looked puzzled, then began to shake his head. Again Verne intervened, pointing to Kelk’s handcuffs.

“Remove them,” he said to Cardona. “Give Kelk the chance he wants. It can do no harm.”

Verne’s request was almost an order; yet Cardona did not resent it. This sudden twist of circumstances had given Joe the inkling of a hunch. Pulling a key from his pocket, the ace unlocked Kelk’s handcuffs.

FROM beyond the inner door of Verne’s living room, a soft whisper sounded. It did not reach the ears of the tense group. That whisper — a laugh — was audible only to the personage who uttered it.

Tangled threads were loosening. Facts were coming out. Statements were to be made by men who were, themselves, puzzled. Oddly, no one in Verne’s living room knew all the truth.

For each had certain facts known to himself alone; and each had failed to fully uncover the other’s game. One living person alone could have explained it all. Only The Shadow knew!

CHAPTER XX

THE FIRST PART

“I AM SIGNET!”

Tully Kelk made that statement with emphasis as he rubbed his chafed wrists. He looked from man to man. From Cardona to Jurling; finally to Verne.

“I am Signet,” repeated Kelk, “and this is proof of it. The ring that I used in signing my correspondence to Stanton Treblaw.”

From his vest pocket, Kelk produced a signet ring which he handed to Joe Cardona. The signet bore the raised impression of a crown. Joe saw tiny dabs of red wax in its crevices. The ring had undoubtedly been used as a stamping seal.

Yet Joe remained a bit perplexed. He had seen none of the original letters; only copies brought by Jurling. Kelk noted Cardona’s puzzlement. He spoke again.

“I have further proof,” he stated. “Identifying cards in my pockets; bills of sale for art treasures. But first, let me tell my story. All that will come later.”

“Go ahead,” suggested Cardona.

Like Kelk, Joe was now eyeing Verne with some suspicion. The dapper man, leaning against the wardrobe trunk, appeared quite unconcerned. He was smiling easily.

“I have always been interested in the works of Benvenuto Cellini,” stated Kelk, “not only in the example of his goldsmith’s art, but also in his literary efforts. I have pored over Cellini’s autobiography time after time, reading between the lines of his story.

“For instance, Cellini told how he was once supplied with silver by the King of France, in order that he might make twelve statues: six Roman gods, and six goddesses. But Cellini relates that he finished the Jupiter only; and also made a silver vase. These objects were delivered to the king.

“Cellini’s explanation that he made the statue larger than intended, thus using a good portion of the silver, was one that I could not believe. Cellini was frequently underpaid; he might have made the statue somewhat larger as an excuse to get more silver for himself instead of the money that was not forthcoming.

“I believed that Cellini made all twelve statues; but delivered only the Jupiter. The king was deceived by the silver pretext but furnished no more of the precious metal. Thus Cellini was left with eleven silver statues, which he was forced to dispose of elsewhere than in France.”

Kelk paused; he studied his intent listeners, then resumed:

“Suffice it to say that my belief was correct. In Europe, I uncovered five statues which looked like survival of Cellini’s work. I purchased them by proxy. I paid little more than the actual value of the metal for them; for the owners did not suspect that they were Cellini’s.