The Five Chameleons

Chapter XII — The Shadow Hears

The Middletown Trust Company had proven its stability. In recognition of that fact, a grand testimonial dinner was in progress at the Darthmore Hotel.

Listed as the guests of honor were David Traver and Harvey Bronlon. These two worthies were seated at the head table. All during the banquet, Judge, smiling and confident; had been talking to Bronlon, whose heavy, overbearing countenance had shown responsiveness.

Even now, as the speaker was introducing Judge as David Traver, Harvey Bronlon was nodding in commendation of something that Judge had said.

Standing, Judge smiled benignly as those present rose to their feet and joined in a tumultuous outburst of applause.

When the wave of enthusiasm had ended, the throng sat down. Judge, in a quiet, easy voice, began his speech.

As he warmed to his topic, there was breathless interest. Judge was swaying this crowd, bending all before him. Nods and murmurs of agreement greeted his statements.

"And now, gentlemen," he said in conclusion, "I am going to mention two incidents that may remain with you as a lasting impression. This morning, a certain gentleman" — Judge paused and glanced toward Bronlon — "entered my office and stated that he was ready to deposit drafts on New York banks to the amount of three hundred and fifty thousand dollars."

Here applause commenced. Hand-clapping burst forth everywhere. Judge, still smiling, waved his hand toward Bronlon, and the uproar increased. At last it ended as Judge raised his hand for silence.

"Then," said Judge, "the same gentleman told me that he had changed his plans about the distribution of a bonus to his employees. He said that he had intended to deliver the bonus within the next few weeks. But he had now decided to wait for another month, at least, so that he might draw the money from an outside source, and thereby keep as much money in Middletown as possible." Applause began again, but subsided instantly, as Judge raised his hand for silence.

"Perhaps," said the gray-haired man, "you would be interested to know what I replied to — Mr. Bronlon. I said exactly this: 'The Middletown Trust Company is an institution that serves Middletown. It has gained the confidence of the citizens, and it will always retain that confidence. Our resources are such, Mr. Bronlon, that I would suggest you pay the bonus now. Pay it to people who live in Middletown, with money drawn from the one bank in Middletown.'"

A marked stillness hung over the room, while Judge waited for the effect of his words to be fully impressed upon the listeners.

"As a result," Judge declared, "I am pleased to say that tomorrow, the bonus money goes out with Mr. Bronlon's pay roll. It is a yearly bonus, gentlemen.

"Let me add that, should Mr. Bronlon care to draw ten times the amount of that bonus money, the Middletown Trust Company would be pleased to supply him with it!"

The diners were on their feet, shouting their approval. Judge stood, acknowledging the storm of praise. Cries came for Bronlon.

The manufacturer rose to his feet. New applause burst forth, and when Bronlon extended his hand for Judge to grasp, the wild enthusiasts leaped upon their chairs in mad approval. It was half an hour afterward when Judge finally managed to shake himself free of the last admirer. He made the plea that he was tired; that he was staying at the hotel for the night. He reached the lobby, and started toward the elevator.

On the way, he encountered one more man. Howard Best, the undertaker, shook hands with David Traver, president of the Middletown Trust Company. Deacon and Judge, they called themselves, on occasion — but not during this public exchange of greetings.

As Judge entered the elevator, he slipped his hand in his pocket — the same right hand that had just been clasped by Deacon. Before the door of the elevator closed, some one stepped into view from an obscure corner of the lobby, and entered the car also. It was Henry Arnaud.

Judge stepped off at the fourth floor. Henry Arnaud continued upward. He left the elevator and went to his room. There he opened a suitcase; then extinguished the light.

The dim glow from the street lights below was not sufficient to reveal his form. Henry Arnaud was invisible in the darkness; and, singularly enough, there was no audible token of his presence except a faint swish that lasted for only a few seconds.

The door of the room opened noiselessly. The light from the hall was blotted out. Then the door closed. Blackness alone remained. Henry Arnaud had become The Shadow.

On the fourth floor, Judge had entered a room alone. But he had scarcely closed the door before other men appeared to join him.

Major, Butcher, and Ferret had been waiting there. They began a low and eager discussion. There was no chance of being overheard, for this room was the center of a suite, and Judge had entered it through a short inner hall.

"Great work, Judge!" congratulated Major. "Great work! You pulled it over swell!"

"I knew I would get them from the start," responded Judge. "I saw the way you fellows were taking it. How did you like that handshake with Bronlon at the finish?"

"A knock-out," said Ferret.

"The best part, Judge," said Butcher, "was the way you worded it about Bronlon and his bank drafts. If you should be questioned about that, you can go back to your statement. Bronlon offered to put in the money — that's all you said."

"Of course," declared Judge. "You know, this bonus proposition has been the one thing we've had to worry about. The state examiner has been letting us alone because we were doing so well.

"He was there tonight — I talked with him afterward — and he took the bait better than any of them. He left town after the banquet. Convinced and satisfied."

"So we're all set now!" Ferret exulted.

"The bonus," declared Judge, "will account for just about all that we can take. There will be profits after this — but we are going to be working in a circle. It's going to be a question now of easing ourselves out of the picture."

"How will you work it, Judge?" asked Butcher.

"I think," said Judge, "that it will not be long before David Traver will receive an offer to assume the presidency of a prominent Eastern bank. So attractive an offer, that he will be forced to resign — much against his will — the position which he holds here in Middletown."

"You think you can work it through Bronlon?" asked Major.

"Certainly," replied Judge. "In the meantime, the expansion of the Middletown Trust Company, with the establishment of branches to replace those of the defunct County National Bank, will mean a shifting of cashier and tellers. Their departure will be unnoticed."

"There's going to be a blow-off, some day," said Butcher, in a worried tone. "Those numbers—"

"Certainly," said Judge sagely. "But it will be long deferred. When it arrives, the successor of David Traver will be the one who is holding the bag. You know how these discoveries are. They always set them closer than the time they actually happened."

"Right," agreed Major.

Ferret shifted uneasily in his chair. He was glancing toward the little hallway that led to the outer door. Butcher noted his action.

"What's the matter, Ferret?" he asked.

"Thought I saw something," said the stoop-shouldered man. "It looked like a gleam, there in the little hall."

"Too much bill counting," declared Butcher seriously. "I've gone goggle-eyed this past week. Guess it's getting Ferret, too."

Ferret was moving back into his chair. He was grinning at Butchers remark. It made light of his alarm.

"All right," said Judge quietly. "Settle down now and listen. Things look normal. So we will start the carry on Saturday night. Handle the bulk then — maybe some on Sunday. The rest can wait a week."

"In case it's needed in the meantime," observed Major.

"Yes," continued Judge, with a nod. "Deacon is ready. He has been using the hearse nights, disposing of those old coffins he put up for sale. He has sold only a few of them — it is a wonder he has managed to do that, with the high prices he is asking."

"Yes," observed Major. "It's odd how a little detail like that can make trouble. I was talking to Deacon about it the other night. He had to dodge a couple of customers. I think he has about half a dozen left, not counting those he sold to Bronlon — which he hasn't delivered yet."

"Baron Bronlon," declared Judge, with a slight smile, "thinks of the welfare of his subjects — even to the point of buying coffins at a bargain price, so that they can get them at cost when they die. He certainly rules this part of the country!"

"Which suits us perfectly," said Major.

"Now that is settled," resumed Judge, with the air of a chairman at a meeting. "Are there any other matters?"

"Yes," said Butcher. "Look at this. Came out in the final edition tonight. I hope it doesn't get in the morning newspapers."

He picked up a newspaper from a table in the corner, and pointed out an item near the bottom of the first page.

"Hm-m-m," said Major. "The girl's trying to make trouble." He took the newspaper from Butcher's hands, folded it carefully, and pointed to the heading:

"Read it," suggested Judge.

Major read:

"Declaring that Hubert Salisbury, held for the murder of H. J. Wellington, is innocent of any crime, Martha Delmar has announced that she will fight against his conviction to the finish. The girl, now living alone in the home where her father died, stated her intention this afternoon.

"'The evidence against Hubert is circumstantial,' said Miss Delmar. 'The police have made no effort to get at the truth of the killing. If they would look for further clues, they might find proof that Hubert is innocent.'

"Miss Delmar added that she cannot explain her father's suicide. She declared that she was present while he was writing the note found on his desk, beside his dead body. At that time, he appeared to be tired but not morose, according to Miss Delmar.

"In addition to these statements, Miss Delmar claimed that the police had refused to let her call in the aid of outside investigators in connection with the Wellington murder. She appeared to be indignant over the matter."

"'I intend to press an investigation,' was her final statement. 'I want to uncover the real murderer. I have addressed an appeal to The Shadow, hoping that he will aid me in this work, but have been unable to learn where he can he reached.'"

"The Shadow?" questioned Butcher. "Who is he?"

"Some fellow supposed to be in New York," replied Major, with a short laugh. "They say he knows all about the gangsters, and fights them with their own methods. The girl is crazy, that's all. She'd better wait until Christmas, and send a letter to Santa Claus."

Ferret and Butcher joined in the laugh. Judge, however, seemed serious.

"It's no laughing matter," he asserted. "The girl offers no evidence, but she is on the right track. Don't forget that! We must not belittle anything that may mean danger."

"But this talk about The Shadow—" protested Major.

"It may be fact," said Judge seriously. "I am not surprised that you three have not heard of The Shadow. But I have! He has created quite a stir within the past few years, while you were away.

"He operates chiefly in New York; but his name was suggested in connection with a big clean-up that took place in Chicago. Middletown is a long way from New York, however. I don't think we have much to worry about here—"

He suddenly thought of his meeting with Deacon in the lobby. Reaching in his pocket, Judge extracted a folded sheet of paper. The others watched him as he opened and read it.

"Deacon slipped this to me," announced Judge. "Look at it." He handed the paper to Major, who held it so that Butcher and Ferret could also peruse the writing.

"Watch out for a man named Henry Arnaud," were the words. "He is staying at the Darthmore. Looks suspicious. Have seen him twice, and found out his name tonight." Ferret was so intent in scanning the message from Deacon, that he forgot all about the darkened hallway by the door. He had been looking in that direction every few minutes. Had he glanced there now, he would have seen the door open slowly, and then close again. But the action was silent, and passed unnoticed.

"What will we do about it?" asked Butcher.

"Well," said Judge. "I'll leave that to Major. You three are going out shortly. Call the hotel from a pay station, Major. Ask for the number of Henry Arnaud's room. Get that for a start."

"Right," said Major. "I'll start along in a few minutes."

"This is more tangible than The Shadow," declared Judge. "Deacon is shrewd. He sees much, but says little. He is handicapped at present. It would be unwise for him to check on this man, Arnaud, and he knows it."

Twenty minutes later, Major stopped in a drug store near the hotel, and called the Darthmore. He smiled as he heard the clerk's reply. A minute later, Major met Ferret and Butcher, outside the store.

"We can forget that fellow, Arnaud," he said. "He checked out nearly half an hour ago. Leaving town on the bus to catch the Eastern Limited. He had his ticket with him — the clerk said he might be reached in Cleveland. That's where he's going."

The three men parted. Each had the same thought. Deacon and Judge, shrewd though they might be, were over-apprehensive. Deacon was worried about Henry Arnaud. Judge was concerned about The Shadow.

Why worry? Arnaud had gone from Middletown. The Shadow had not come to the city.

Thus reasoned the three.

They were wrong. Little did they suspect that Henry Arnaud and The Shadow were one person — who was in Middletown that night!

Henry Arnaud had gone, because The Shadow had heard!