Master of Death

CHAPTER XIV. MILLIONAIRES MEET

HOLBROOK EDKINS lived in an old brownstone house among the Nineties. From the outside, the place was unpretentious; within, it was sumptuously furnished. The millionaire had altered the ancient mansion to suit his requirements.

The downstairs living room contained a gorgeous array of ornate furniture of Louis Quinze style. Edkins, as he walked among a galaxy of fragile, gilded chairs, looked like the proverbial bull amid a collection of chinaware.

A doorbell rang dully. Edkins glanced at his watch. It showed nine o’clock. This was the hour for which he had set his appointment with Lamont Cranston, through a call to the Cobalt Club. A plainly dressed manservant entered the room and spoke to the millionaire.

“Mr. Lamont Cranston is calling, sir.”

“Show him in!” exclaimed Edkins.

A few moments later, Holbrook Edkins was shaking hands with Lamont Cranston. The host invited his guest to take a chair; the servant appeared with a box of imported cigars. Meanwhile, both men took a mental survey of each other.

Lamont Cranston’s keen eyes summarized Holbrook Edkins in rapid fashion. Edkins, tall and overweight, was evidently a man who enjoyed comfort rather than luxury. He was some fifty years of age, a trifle bald, and inclined toward paunchy cheeks and double chin. While Edkins appeared to he a man who might have his own peculiar prejudice, his countenance betokened a natural friendliness and honesty.

When Edkins looked toward his visitor, he was quick to observe that Lamont Cranston was a most extraordinary man. Tall, lithe, and attired in a black suit, Cranston presented a somber appearance which was increased by the calmness of his face.

Holbrook Edkins had never seen so immobile a countenance. Cranston’s hawklike nose, his sharp, penetrating eyes — these were features that impressed Edkins immediately.

IT was Edkins who opened the conversation. The bluff-faced man felt a trifle ill at ease. He decided that it might be the formal environment of the austere living room. He made a suggestion to his visitor.

“Suppose we go up to my den,” he said. “That’s where I like to talk business. This showroom is my wife’s idea. She likes fancy furniture. It makes me feel uncomfortable.”

Cranston responded to the suggestion. He followed Edkins up the stairs. They reached an isolated room and entered the little apartment which Edkins called his den.

The place was not tidy, but it appeared comfortable. Edkins motioned Cranston to a large armchair.

“I understand you have invested in a new X-ray invention,” said Edkins. “I was talking with your broker, Rutledge Mann. A good chap, Mann.”

“I have made no investment,” returned Cranston. “I merely hold an option for a part interest in the device, pending its promotion. I did not care to finance it entirely upon my own.”

“So Mann informed me,” remarked Edkins, chewing the end of his cigar. “Have you seen the device, Mr. Cranston? Do you know exactly what it will accomplish?”

“No,” replied the calm-faced visitor. “The terms of my option are entirely dependent upon my final satisfaction. I merely took Mann’s word for it that the invention has reached a satisfactory stage of development.”

Holbrook Edkins made no immediate reply. Cigar smoke was becoming thick in the little room. Edkins coughed, walked over to the fireplace, and drew back the screen. He threw the half-consumed perfecto into the pile of ashes. He opened a box that lay upon a table and produced a cigarette.

“If you prefer these,” he remarked, “help yourself. I occasionally find cigar smoke too heavy.”

“Does my smoke annoy you?” questioned Cranston.

“Not at all; not at all,” assured Edkins. “There are other cigars if you want them. Or cigarettes, as you prefer. Regarding the X-ray, Mr. Cranston, I am anxious to learn more.”

“You are familiar with X-ray developments?”

Cranston’s question was a direct one. It came just as Edkins was lighting his cigarette at an electric lighter. Edkins looked sharply toward his guest. He caught the steady expression of Cranston’s eyes. He hesitated on the point of saying, “No.”

“I am somewhat familiar with electrical appliances,” declared Edkins. “In fact, I have financed the development of certain successful inventions. On a moderate scale, you understand.”

“Hence you are interested in a larger proposition.”

“Exactly. I would like to be sure of its merits, however.”

“I hold the same opinion,” announced Cranston quietly. “That is why I wanted this discussion with you. I am anxious to consider the proposition from the investor’s angle. So I am particularly desirous of learning whether or not there are other X-ray devices in the course of development.”

Edkins puffed his cigarette thoughtfully. There had been no question in Cranston’s tone, but those steady, penetrating eyes were demanding in their glance. Edkins had finished no more than half of his cigarette; nevertheless, he went to the fireplace, pulled back the screen, and nervously tossed the butt into the ashes. Immediately afterward, he took another cigarette from the box and lighted it.

ALL the while, Cranston remained silent. The visitor was evidently awaiting some comment from Edkins.

The host was considering what he should say. At length, he spoke cautiously.

“I understand your apprehensions,” he said. “It would be unwise to invest in some device that might be quickly superseded. That has been my problem for several months.”

“Regarding X-ray devices?”

Cranston’s question was calmly interposed yet its tone was now apparent. Holbrook Edkins realized that he had said exactly what be had not intended to discuss so soon. He had intimated that he had already been considering the possibilities of an X-ray device.

“Not exactly,” he said, hoping to correct the error. “I have been concerned more with a screening device — a contrivance to counteract the injurious effects of X-rays of high intensity.”

“Necessary, I suppose,” rejoined Cranston, “with improved X-rays of greater power than those now used.”

“Yes.” Holbrook Edkins paused suddenly. He threw his second cigarette into the fireplace. He turned to meet Cranston’s steady gaze. He could not tell whether or not those eyes were challenging.

Edkins recalled that he had mentioned negotiations with a promoter during his conversation with Rutledge Mann. Had Mann passed that fact to Cranston? Whatever the case, Edkins had just admitted an interest in pending X-ray developments. He realized that Cranston, though silent in his inquiries, was gradually forcing him to bring up the subject.

“I have had dealings,” asserted Edkins, suddenly, “with a promoter whose name I have promised not to reveal. He has shown me models of X-ray machines which are already developed. He represents the inventor. I have made several substantial cash advances.”

“Indeed,” remarked Cranston quietly. “Then, Mr. Edkins, you are probably not interested in the invention which I have promised to finance. Under the circumstances—”

“No, no!” exclaimed Edkins, as he saw his guest rising to leave. “I am intensely interested, Mr. Cranston. It would be most unfortunate if either one of us should be investing money to a futile purpose.”

“Events will show that,” decided Cranston in his easy tone. “I have no desire, Mr. Edkins, to cause you financial loss. Nevertheless, I feel that my position is more desirable than yours. I am dealing with a legitimate specialist in investments. Rutledge Mann has no desire to conceal his name. You, however, are concerned with a wild-cat promoter who prefers to keep under cover. I cannot compliment you on your choice, Mr. Edkins; however, I wish you all possible success.”

There was a sting to Cranston’s words. They made Holbrook Edkins uncomfortable. Mechanically, Edkins gripped the hand which his visitor extended. Then, as Cranston turned toward the door, the bluff-faced man bounded forward.

“Wait!” he exclaimed. “We must talk this over. Perhaps I have made a serious mistake. I may need your advice, Mr. Cranston. You have opened my eyes.”

“Any one,” returned Cranston quietly, “makes a mistake in dealing with a person who prefers to keep his identity secret. Naturally, I do not ask you to abrogate any agreement which you have made with this unknown individual. I prefer to terminate our own negotiations.”

“Let me talk to you,” pleaded Edkins. “I want you to hear the circumstances, then give me your fair opinion. This means much to me, Mr. Cranston!”

WITH a slight smile, the visitor consented to remain. Holbrook Edkins nervously lighted a fresh cigarette.

Then, in an eager voice, he began his story.

“This man,” he said, “offered me an opportunity to invest in a patented invention which seemed good. I did so — more than two years ago — and made money. He repeated with a similar offer, one year ago. It, too, resulted in financial gain.

“Finally, this promoter offered me a new proposition. In this very room — in fact, Vel—” Edkins caught himself. “This promoter was seated in the very chair which you are occupying. He gave me the details of an X-ray which he claimed would revolutionize all existing appliances.

“I agreed to the preliminary financing. It was his job to coax along the inventor — whom I have never met. Matters have been progressing nicely, but slowly. The promoter has visited me occasionally; in fact, I expect to hear from him either tonight or tomorrow. Meanwhile, I learned of the invention which Rutledge Mann is placing on the market.”

“I understand,” rejoined Cranston. “Nevertheless, your story does not change the circumstances. I still feel that you are making a mistake in dealing with so speculative a promoter.”

“The man is convincing,” declared Edkins. “He has other inventors on his private list. He states that he will pyramid each enterprise, until the final one, financed by money which I have accumulated, will exceed all others.”

“Why does he not propose them now?”

“Because I am the only person who has shown the willingness to invest in what he terms futuristic enterprises. My capital is somewhat limited. If I could pool my resources with other men of vision—”

Edkins paused suddenly as he caught the gleam which appeared in Cranston’s brilliant eyes. The bluff-faced man did not know that his visitor’s expression was a feigned one. Edkins thought that Cranston had given a sign of intense interest in the proposition which was now being discussed.

“Perhaps,” ventured Edkins, “you might be interested in such enterprises, Mr. Cranston. Would you like to meet the promoter whom I have just mentioned?”

“Scarcely,” returned Cranston in a languid tone, his feigned interest suddenly waning. “I am not accustomed, Mr. Edkins, to holding conference with persons without knowing their names before I meet them.”

“I can tell you this man’s name,” assured Edkins, “provided that you will not mention it to any other person. You understand, of course, that my negotiations have all been secret. If I have your assurance—”

Cranston appeared reluctant; then, with an air of indifference, he nodded slowly. Edkins took the sign as one of agreement. In his anxiety to impress Cranston, he gave the information.

“The promoter’s name,” he announced, “is Eric Veldon. Beyond that, I know nothing concerning him. There is no place where he can be located. I expect to hear from him; when I do, I shall tell him that you would like to meet him.”

“No,” responded Cranston, in a steady tone. “That will not be necessary. I should not like to disappoint you, if something prevented me from the meeting. Suppose, Mr. Edkins, that you merely arrange to have Eric Veldon call to see you. Then send me word of the meeting time. I shall be here if possible. Let my arrival be his first knowledge of my interest in the matter.”

Holbrook Edkins acknowledged the wisdom of Cranston’s decision. The bluff-faced millionaire tossed his consumed cigarette in the fireplace. As he turn to speak again, there was a rap at the door. The servant entered to announce that Mr. Cranston was wanted on the telephone.

EDKINS accompanied Lamont Cranston downstairs. He heard his guest conduct a short conversation.

The words were meaningless; evidently Cranston was receiving some message. This proved to be the case.

“I must go back to the Cobalt Club,” announced Cranston, as he hung up the receiver. “I have just received a call regarding an important appointment which I have been expecting for some time. I shall hear from you, Mr. Edkins, after you have talked with Eric Veldon.”

“Promptly,” assured Edkins.

After a parting handshake, Cranston left by the front door. Holbrook Edkins watched him enter a trim coupe. He saw the car drive away. But Edkins did not observe what occurred within the automobile.

In the darkness of the coupe, Lamont Cranston underwent a quick transformation. His hand drew a mass of black cloth from an opened bag upon the seat. The folds of a dark cloak spread over his seated form.

A broad-brimmed slouch hat settled upon his head. Heavy automatics went beneath his cloak.

Only the eyes of Lamont Cranston remained visible. They were the keen eyes which Holbrook Edkins had noted; but, from the darkness, they burned with vivid light as they gazed along the street ahead.

Lamont Cranston had become The Shadow. A weird laugh rippled from his unseen lips. Tonight, The Shadow had learned the identity of the man whom he sought — Eric Veldon, the superfiend who dealt in murder.

More than that, The Shadow had received a message which promised quick activity. He was starting on a mission which might lead him to the hidden lair of the very enemy whose name he now knew!

The coupe traveled swiftly as it reached an avenue. The firm hands of The Shadow were upon the wheel.

The eyes of The Shadow glowed as they looked ahead. The Shadow’s creepy whisper again formed its sibilant laugh!