The Romanoff Jewels

CHAPTER IV. THE SHADOW HEARS

IT was late the following afternoon. Parker Noyes was seated comfortably on a sun porch of Tobias Waddell’s home. He looked up as the millionaire stepped from the door that led to the house.

“I was just talking to Lamont Cranston,” announced Waddell. “I invited him out here to have dinner with us.”

“Remarkable chap, Cranston,” returned Noyes.

“A man of consequence,” declared Waddell, in a tone of approval. “It is enjoyable to have him here, as a contrast to some of these ne’er-do-wells who—”

“Such as young Tholbin,” observed Noyes, with a dry smile.

“Exactly,” declared Waddell, with emphasis. “I cannot understand why my daughter tolerates that young upstart. He hounds us wherever we travel. It annoys me, Parker, especially as we are about to have another display of his interloping.”

“You mean he is going to Europe?”

“Yes. We sail on the Galathia before the end of the week. Now I learn from Betty that Tholbin has engaged passage on the same boat. His itinerary will be the same as ours — in all probability—”

“He wants to marry your daughter.”

“Yes; and it annoys me.”

“He has some money of his own,” said Noyes speculatively. “At least so I understand. I imagine he is spending it freely, however.”

“He is squandering,” declared Waddell, in a positive, angry tone. “He is splurging away in hopes that he may marry my daughter. I shall oppose him constantly, unless he can prove to my satisfaction that he has resources commensurate with his ambitions.”

“Which means that he must have about—”

“At least a quarter of a million in his own right.”

“Which is exceedingly unlikely,” laughed Noyes.

Tobias Waddell nodded. Then he changed the subject gruffly.

“Sorry you can’t stay for the evening, Parker,” he said. “I enjoy having you here. My only objection is that you receive too many telephone calls from your office.”

“They have been disconcerting,” replied the lawyer, with his characteristic smile. “It seems as though every time we begin a chat, the footman arrives to say that I am wanted on the telephone. Well, business comes first always — when one is an active attorney, and not a retired millionaire.”

Scarcely had Noyes paused before a liveried servant appeared at the door of the sun porch.

“A telephone call for you, sir,” said the footman, addressing Parker Noyes.

The lawyer laughed and arose from his chair. He went into the house, and entered the little room where the telephone was located. There, he carefully closed the door before approaching the telephone.

FREDERICK FROMAN was at the other end of the wire. Noyes recognized his voice instantly.

“You have made arrangements?” Froman’s voice was anxious.

“Yes,” returned Noyes, in a low, quiet tone. “Helmsworth is coming to see me this evening. Everything will be final after I talk with him.”

“Where will he see you?”

“At my own apartment. Ten o’clock. I shall call you before eleven.”

“Good. I am anxious to hear what he has to say. It all depends upon him now.”

“Exactly. In the meantime” — Noyes spoke with a slight trace of caution — “do not call me either here or at my apartment. Your call this morning was sufficient. You have succeeded in your work. The less said the better.”

“I understand,” agreed Froman.

“I had the office call Helmsworth,” added Noyes. “They arranged the appointment. I am leaving here shortly after eight o’clock.”

The conversation ended, Parker Noyes quietly left the room and returned to the sun porch. His benign countenance and sparse gray hair belied the fact that he was an abettor of the cruel methods used by Frederick Froman.

“More business?” inquired Waddell jokingly, as Noyes made his appearance.

The lawyer laughed at the comment and nodded.

Dusk was gathering when the lights of a big car loomed up the drive. The two men on the side porch saw a tall figure alight beneath the porte-cochere. It was Lamont Cranston. Both Waddell and Noyes left the porch to welcome the guest.

The three men returned to the porch to await dinner. While they were seated there, the footman again appeared. Noyes arose, only to learn that the inevitable telephone call was not for him. Lamont Cranston was wanted.

The tall, quiet-faced guest entered the telephone room in the same manner that Parker Noyes had displayed. Like the lawyer, he closed the door behind him and spoke in a low, guarded tone.

“Burbank,” came the voice from the other end.

“Report,” said Cranston.

“Marsland reports no suspicious action on the part of David Tholbin,” announced Burbank. “Vincent reports continued watch at the home of Frederick Froman. No one has entered or left.”

Cranston hung up the receiver and sat in quiet speculation. Marsland and Vincent were capable men.

They were watching two individuals who were under suspicion only because Marcus Holtmann had made a strange and unsuspected disappearance.

The vigil had begun shortly after midnight. Its continuance had brought no results. Only one other man remained, who might possibly have had some interest in the affairs of Marcus Holtmann, inasmuch as he had talked with Holtmann last night.

That man was Parker Noyes, least suspicious of all; for he was quietly biding his time as the guest of Tobias Waddell. Nevertheless, The Shadow, following his keen sense of intuition, was leaving nothing to chance. Himself a guest in Waddell’s home, he was able to observe Parker Noyes at close range.

WHEN Cranston appeared on the porch, Waddell indulged in a brief laugh.

“You have a competitor, Parker,” he remarked. “Cranston is using my home for a telephone booth, too.”

“My office has been bothering me all day,” explained Noyes, turning to Cranston. “Mr.Waddell seems to have been amused by it. However, I do not think I shall be annoyed further. The office is closed now, and there is no reason why I should receive calls. Unfortunately, I must go in to the city early in the evening, as I expect a visitor at my apartment around nine o’clock.”

“That saves me from an embarrassing situation,” returned Cranston, “I was just wondering how I could manage to get away shortly after eight, as I must be at the club, not long after nine. I am sorry that I have to leave early, also. However, it will give me the privilege of taking you in to the city with me.”

“I shall be delighted to accompany you,” said Noyes. “You may regard the invitation as accepted.”

The three men went to dinner shortly afterward; They dined alone, as Betty Waddell was absent. It developed she was in New York with a group of friends, and that she was going to the theater, escorted by David Tholbin. This explanation, by Tobias Waddell, was the beginning of a new tirade of deprecating remarks directed against Tholbin.

Shortly after eight o’clock, Parker Noyes remarked that it was about time for him to leave. Cranston’s car was summoned, and the two men started for New York. They arrived at the lawyer’s apartment house well before nine, and Cranston accepted an invitation to come up to the apartment.

They entered a room which Noyes called his office. It lived up to that name. The room was equipped with desks and typewriter, while large bookcases were filled with long rows of buckram-bound legal volumes.

Lamont Cranston, leisurely in manner, did not seem greatly impressed by this home workshop. Parker Noyes smiled indulgently, classing Lamont Cranston as a man of idleness and wealth.

Noyes had a secret contempt for members of the idle rich, and he included Cranston among them.

Nevertheless, it was good policy to be friendly to persons who might some day be desirable clients.

Before the clock on the lawyer’s desk had reached nine, Cranston suddenly recalled his almost forgotten appointment at the Cobalt Club. He said good-by to Noyes, and was ushered from the apartment by the lawyer’s manservant.

Parker Noyes gave no further thought to Cranston. The gray-haired lawyer sat at his desk, his brow furrowed in deep thought.

LAMONT CRANSTON was out of the lawyer’s mind. But he was still very much concerned with the affairs of Parker Noyes. In the dim hallway outside the apartment, a strange transformation was taking place.

Cranston, when he had left the limousine, had carried what appeared to be a hat and coat upon his arm.

Now, as he stood in a secluded alcove of the hall, he spread those garments.

The coat developed into a black cloak with a crimson lining that shone sullenly in the obscure light. The red portion of the garment disappeared from view as the folds of the cloak spread about the tall form.

Then the hat took shape. Soft and broad-brimmed, it rested upon the head above the cloak, and its turned-down edge hid the features beneath it.

Lamont Cranston had become The Shadow! Noiselessly, like a phantom of the night, he stalked across the hall to the door of the lawyer’s apartment. There he paused momentarily, and suddenly swung away to seek the shelter of the wall and door. His form merged with the blackness at the end of the hall, as a man stepped from the elevator some distance away.

It was the visitor whom Parker Noyes was expecting. The man came within the range of The Shadow’s observation as he stopped before the door, where The Shadow had so lately been. A man of medium height with square, heavy-jawed face, this stranger had a practical air that characterized him as a man of action.

The door opened in response to the visitor’s rap. When it closed again, The Shadow emerged from his temporary hiding place. His hands, now clad in black gloves, worked silently upon the lock.

The door yielded and The Shadow entered. His tall thin form glided along the inner hall, until it reached the entrance to the lawyer’s office. The visitor had evidently been conducted into this room, for the low buzz of conversation was audible.

From beneath his cloak The Shadow produced an odd-shaped instrument: a disk of black rubber, connected by a wire to a cup-shaped earphone.

With one hand, The Shadow pressed the disk over the keyhole of the door. The earphone disappeared beneath the projecting edge of the slouch hat. With this special device, the figure in black was ready to pick up the sound waves from the inner room. He could hear every word of the conversation.

“Helmsworth,” Noyes was saying to the visitor, “the time has come that I have been anticipating. Are you ready?”

“Not as yet, Mr. Noyes,” came the gruff reply of the visitor. “You will have to allow me three days, at least.”

“You have not lived up to your agreement,” declared Noyes testily. “You were to be in readiness at any time. It was upon that understanding that I managed to arrange the funds that you needed for your polar expedition.”

“Submarines are uncertain at best,” protested Helmsworth. “My ship is ready now, Mr. Noyes, but I can leave nothing to chance. You have demanded a trip across the Atlantic and return, without refueling. No man, other than myself, could have guaranteed such a voyage.

“I have just conducted new experiments and have learned that my estimate was not exact, so we are installing additional fuel tanks. I can positively assure you that we will be ready for the trip three days from now. Nevertheless—”

“What is the trouble?” demanded Noyes, as Helmsworth paused.

“I see difficulties ahead,” replied Helmsworth. “The Straits leading into the Baltic Sea present obstacles in navigation.”

“No more difficult than the ice floes that surround the arctic region,” said Noyes. “You intend to explore there, after you have finished this work for me, don’t you?”

“Exactly,” agreed Silas Helmsworth. “Nevertheless, I can turn back if I experience trouble in the polar region; this voyage which you demand allows no turning back. We cannot land in Russia, you know. I shall undertake it as I promised, but I require the time I have asked, to make the trip a certainty.”

“Then you cannot expect to reach Riga in less than fifteen days from now?” said Noyes thoughtfully.

“That is the time I require,” answered Helmsworth.

“Very well,” said Noyes in a tone of finality. “We shall work on that basis. Be ready to sail at the earliest opportunity. Be sure that everything is in perfect order. After all, that is most essential. You have your instructions. Follow them. Remember to announce only that you are embarking on a test cruise.”

VAGUE sounds came from the room, indicating that the men were rising. The Shadow’s hand plucked the rubber disk from the keyhole in the door. There was a slight sound as the little suction cap was released, then the form of The Shadow disappeared into a room on the other side of the hall.

The door of the office opened. Parker Noyes and his visitor stepped out.

The brief conversation had been illuminating to The Shadow. This visitor was none other than Silas Helmsworth, noted submarine expert and navigator, whose contemplated trip by submarine to the polar regions had been discussed in the newspapers for many months. His connection with Parker Noyes, and the announcement of his destination, were the first link that The Shadow had gained between Marcus Holtmann and one of Tobias Waddell’s guests.

Now that Silas Helmsworth was gone, Parker Noyes went back into his office and closed the door. The Shadow’s work was not yet ended. Emerging from his hiding place, he again attached the rubber disk to the keyhole. The voice of Parker Noyes became audible. The lawyer was speaking over the telephone.

“Riga… Fifteen days… Moscow sixteen days… Arrange for that time… No, we must allow that long… You are sure that Holtmann told all he knows?… Good. Hold him until then, unless…”

There was a pause. Evidently Noyes was hearing a lengthy report from the other end of the line.

“All right, Froman” — Noyes was speaking in a doubtful tone — “that is your duty. You have done your part. I shall not interfere. If you think it best…”

Again the lawyer ceased speaking. The clicking of the receiver indicated another statement. Noyes uttered a terse “good-by.” The telephone clicked as the receiver was placed on the hook.

There was action in the hall outside the office. The Shadow was working swiftly and silently. He detached the instrument from the door, and with rapid noiseless stride, swept along the hall toward the outer door.

Only a slight swish of the black cloak disturbed the silence. With grim decision The Shadow was departing.

There was other work for The Shadow tonight. The life of a man hung in the balance, and only The Shadow could save him!