“But a little while ago you saw a man inside the cabinet. You can not see him now. Why? On account of air. Air, which is vapor, surrounding him. I have made a man unseen, by surrounding him with air of a certain sort.
“Now comes my secret” — the professor paused and wisely tapped his forehead — “which I have formulated here in my brain. If air, when like a mist, can hide a solid form, why can not air, when it is no longer mist, still hide that form?
“It is impossible? That is what you would say. But I shall show you different. Far different. The vapor that you see is on the walls of the cabinet only. But the air inside that cabinet is possessed of the same power.
“That air alone will hide the solid form. That air which you can not see! You can not see it — nor can you see what is within it. The vapor has done its part. It is no longer needed. But it will take a while to go. I shall not try your patience by forcing you to wait.”
WITH hurried, almost frenzied speed, the professor bobbed about the cabinet, detaching wires. He turned off the buzzing machine. He attached the connections from the second motor. All the while, the silent watchers were staring at the whitened walls of glass, for the sides of the cabinet had become completely frosted.
Ready, with one hand upon the new motor, Professor Lessep raised his other hand and lifted an impressive forefinger. Leaning forward, prophetic with his garb and hair of white, the old man spoke in his odd, crackling tone.
“He is within that cabinet,” announced the professor. “This man who has been willing to take the risk of my experiment. Science owes much to him — to Miles Crofton. He is a man who has taken great risks; but none to equal this.
“He can come out only by that door which you see in the front. I shall have him open that door; but he must stay within the cabinet. For at this moment, my friends, no living eye could see Miles Crofton. He is devisualized! Within air that hides him and all that he may carry within that space. Not until I use the second process will he come back to view.”
The professor paused. Still holding his fixed position, he turned his eyes toward the cabinet and waited amid complete silence. Then he spoke:
“Open the door of the cabinet.”
A pause. The door trembled. Then, impelled by some force, the white, frosted barrier swung outward.
Staring spectators blinked; the only eyes that were steady were those of The Shadow — the optics that peered from the countenance of Lamont Cranston.
Where the dark-garbed form of a man had been, whiteness alone came to view. The sides, the top, the base of the cabinet — these showed with their coating of thick frost, a solid walled interior.
The cabinet, itself, was empty! Professor Lessep’s fantastic experiment had fulfilled his strange prediction.
Miles Crofton had vanished from human sight!
CHAPTER IV. CARDONA SPEAKS
TRIUMPH showed on Lessep’s face as the old professor stepped forward from the motor. A peculiar awe lay over the little audience that had witnessed the evanishment of Miles Crofton.
The telephone began to ring again from beyond the door of the adjoining office. Professor Lessep gave it no heed; nor did the persistent ringing break the spell that had come over the assembled group.
With sharp, steady gaze, the white-haired inventor surveyed the spectators. He was ready for a challenge; for quizzical expressions; but none came. It was not until his gaze reached a certain point that the professor became perturbed.
There, Lessep’s stare encountered the burning glare of eyes far sharper than his own. Those were the orbs that peered from the visage of Lamont Cranston. All others seemed bewildered; they were looking toward the frosted cabinet. But this one member of the audience had chosen the professor as his visual target.
Lessep alone saw the focused brilliance of those eyes. They were the eyes of The Shadow. They troubled the old man in his triumph. They carried a challenge that brought a quiver of fear to the professor’s wasted frame.
As suddenly as if he had received a shock from one of his own machines, Lessep sprang sidewise toward the cabinet. Shaking a scrawny hand toward the opened door, he issued a new statement that came amid the muffled ringing from the telephone bell in the office.
“He is standing there!” exclaimed the professor. “Within the glass walls of the cabinet! Yet you can not see him. Sharp though your eyes may be” — wildly, Lessep paused to catch the gaze of The Shadow’s burning optics — “you can see — nothing!
“Yet he is there! Miles Crofton, in the flesh, stands in the center of the cabinet. Held within walls of glass. Encased where he cannot escape. Still solid, yet surrounded by an aura that renders him unseen. An invisible mist, about a living form. I shall prove it!” With that, Lessep thrust his right hand into the cabinet.
He moved it about, as though touching an invisible form. The action was impressive.
Commissioner Barth, straining forward, sought to make out a living shape, but failed.
“You may step forward—”
Professor Lessep stopped short in his statement; then betrayed a look of alarm. He had half withdrawn his hand from the cabinet; now he was thrusting it in again. Wildly, the professor grappled into the opened space, this time encountering nothingness.
“He is gone!” shrieked the old man. “Out of the cabinet. Stay where you are, until I find him. Crofton! Crofton! Where are you?”
THERE was no response. The professor leaped back to his new motor. He pressed a switch.
Lightninglike flashes crackled through the cabinet. The odor of ozone charged the air. The ringing of the telephone bell had ended. This new sound alone pervaded the room.
“He has left the cabinet!” shrilled Lessep, above the crackle of electricity. “He had no right to do so. Stop him — wherever he may be! Look to the doors — stop him — there, by the door to the parlor—”
Men were coming to their feet. In response to the professor’s plea, they swung as one toward the door that Lessep had indicated. It offered the logical avenue of departure, that door through the front of the house.
“The bolt!” cried Lessep. “The light switch! Watch them” — the professor was swaying as he leaned heavily upon his buzzing motor — “watch them before— before—”
The admonition came too late. While those nearest the door were staring, the bolt of the door was drawn back, as though plucked by an invisible hand. The knob turned. The door swung open. Then, as the barrier wavered, the light switch was pressed upward. It clicked. The room was plunged in blackness.
An instant later, the door closed with a sudden slam.
Men were groping blindly for the wall. The light switch was beyond the corner of the room, a hard spot to locate in the darkness. The crackle of the motor continued, with the professor’s voice shrilling above it.
Then, after moments that seemed interminable, the switch was found. It clicked. Startled men blinked in the light.
Most of the persons present were clustered along the wall or by the door. There was one exception. The tall form of Lamont Cranston had moved in a different direction. Staring toward the cabinet, Professor Lessep saw this one visitor almost beside the frosted apparatus.
Lessep had turned on more power. He motioned wildly with his hands, his gestures signifying for Cranston to stay away from the cabinet. Calmly, the tall witness watched; then others turned in the same direction.
Electric sparks were crackling against glass panes. They were knifing their way through frosted whiteness. Icy mist was fading. The walls of the cabinet were becoming clear. As silent men stared, they saw the glass sides regain their original clearness. The cabinet and its base stood as transparent as they had been at the beginning of the experiment.