The Silver Scourge

CHAPTER XV THE HAND OF CRIME

THE SHADOW, in all his amazing adventures, never neglected the human element. His keen brain always analyzed possibilities. With all its power, however, The Shadow’s mind could not cover the entire range of possible coincidences.

When Detective Donald Cady had left the silverware factory, his purpose had been to go straight to the New Avalon Hotel. The Shadow had divined that fact. He knew that Cady had a simple duty ahead, and that the sleuth intended to perform it.

A freak of chance was destined to change the course of action. Cady, driving along the highway, was so wrapped in thought of what he had discovered that he turned left instead of right when he reached the peculiar fork in the road near Foulkrod Kendall’s home.

Before the detective realized it, his car was approaching the stone pillars that indicated the millionaire’s mansion. Cady stopped his car, pulled between the pillars, and prepared to go into reverse. Then, his proximity to Kendall’s home struck him with a new thought.

Cady had agreed to work for Vic Marquette. He had promised to say nothing to other members of the local police force. This promise, however, did not bind him to keep his discoveries secret from a man of high repute who was being victimized, so Cady thought, by counterfeiters.

Foulkrod Kendall!

The millionaire was the most important figure in New Avalon. What would he say when he learned of the doings in his plant?

Cady began to vision complications. He knew that he must play fair with Marquette; at the same time, he could curry favor with Kendall.

Acting upon this thought, Cady drove along the driveway, and pulled up at the side of Kendall’s home. He extinguished the lights on his car. He went to the front door of the millionaire’s mansion, announced himself to the servant who answered the door, and was immediately admitted to Kendall’s living room.

Foulkrod Kendall was talking to a guest — Doctor Conrad Guyon. The millionaire advanced to shake hands with Detective Cady. The sleuth, in an undertone, mumbled that he would like a private interview. Kendall turned to Guyon.

“Mr. Cady pays frequent visits to the settlement,” said the millionaire. “He probably has something to tell me about the policing system there. You will excuse us, Conrad?”

“Of course,” returned the physician, settling back into his easy-chair.

KENDALL led the way into another room. As soon as the door was closed, the detective brought up the subject that was uppermost in his mind.

“Mr. Kendall,” he said, “I’ve discovered something wrong at your plant.”

“What’s that?” inquired Kendall.

“There is a side entrance to a private office,” declared Cady. “I take it that the office is yours?”

“Yes,” nodded Kendall. “That door, however, is not intended to be used.”

“It is being used, however,” asserted Cady. “Two new workers at your plant are going though that way. Tell me, Mr. Kendall, what is the purpose of an obscure corner room that is located at the extreme right of your factory?”

“You must mean the experimental room,” answered Kendall. “It is closed at present—”

“It is not,” blurted Cady. “Those men are using it. I have an idea what they are doing there.”

“What?” asked Kendall, in feigned surprise.

“Counterfeiting!” asserted Cady bluntly.

Foulkrod Kendall pretended complete amazement. Then, with an affected laugh, he belittled Cady’s statement.

“Impossible,” said the millionaire. “You must be completely mistaken, Cady.”

“Not a bit of it,” retorted the sleuth. “I went up to the settlement at the request of a secret-service operative who is here in New Avalon. The man’s name is Vic Marquette. He described two men to me; said he thought they were in New Avalon. I took a chance on finding them at the settlement. I did. I’m on my way to see Marquette now.”

“Incredible,” said Kendall, in an awed tone. “Tell me, Cady, you found this out alone?”

“Positively,” asserted the sleuth proudly.

“Does Marquette know of your discovery?” asked Kendall.

“Not yet,” said the detective.

“Where is Marquette?” questioned the millionaire. “Is he still in New Avalon?”

“Yes. At the New Avalon Hotel. I am going there immediately. I decided to stop off and tell you about the matter — in strict confidence.”

“Suppose,” suggested Kendall. “that you call Marquette and invite him up here.”

“I won’t call him,” balked Cady, “because I agreed to tell no one regarding this matter until I had seen him. No, Mr. Kendall, I have a duty to perform. I am going to the New Avalon Hotel; as soon as I have conferred with Marquette, I’ll get in touch with you.”

Foulkrod Kendall sat like a man dumfounded. Donald Cady, remembering his promise to Marquette, arose and started from the room. Kendall was about to stop him; then sank back in unfeigned alarm. Had Donald Cady seen the expression on the millionaire’s face, he would have stopped point blank. Fortunately for Kendall, Cady’s back was turned.

Kendall regained his composure with an effort. He leaped to the door through which the detective had gone. Cady was now out of sight. Doctor Guyon was alone in the living room, reading a book. Hastily, Foulkrod Kendall closed the door. He paced across the room, and frantically clenched his fists.

EVENTS were going badly. While Kendall worried over his dilemma, the trend of circumstance was enmeshing the schemes of plotters. Outside of Kendall’s mansion, Donald Cady was stepping into his car to drive away to the city and tip off Vic Marquette. Another menace — one which Kendall did not suspect — was approaching while the detective prepared to depart.

Another car had stopped well down the driveway, off in a cleared side path. A sinister figure was performing a circuit around the side of the great house, far away from where Cady was parked.

The Shadow was approaching!

Kendall, however, was too concerned with the matter of Cady to even speculate upon the possibility of an unknown enemy. He could not stop Cady from going to the city. Once the detective had spoken to the secret-service operative, the game would be ended. It was in this moment of dread alarm that Kendall gained an inspiration.

He gripped the telephone upon his desk. He called a special number in a frantic hope. It was a line which had been secretly connected with the counterfeiting room in the factory. Tony Cumo answered the call.

“This is Kendall,” informed the millionaire. “Is Tim Mecke there?”

“Not here,” came Tony’s reply. “Wait a minute, Mr. Kendall. Sounds like him at the door now.”

Half a minute later, Tim Mecke was on the wire. Kendall spoke rapidly.

“Where is the armored car, Tim?” asked the millionaire.

“Got it outside,” returned Tim. “Starting out to make a special collection from the theater over in New Hempstead—”

“Quick, Tim!” exclaimed Kendall. “Start out and block the road from my home. Understand? A man is coming down in a car — when you see his headlights, open fire. lt’s Detective Cady, you’ve got to get him!”

The window close beside Kendall was rising. The millionaire did not notice it. He was listening to Tony’s reply.

“That’s it,” repeated Kendall. “Not a minute to lose. Shoot to kill. Afterward you can claim it was a hold-up. At the road from my house. Right!”

The millionaire was trembling with excitement when he hung up the receiver. He slumped in his chair. The window closed. The Shadow had heard.

One minute before he had arrived at Kendall’s window, The Shadow had paused to listen to the throb of a starting motor somewhere near the house.

Every word of Kendall’s final statement had been potent to The Shadow. In a trice, the master of deduction had realized that the car must belong to Donald Cady; that the detective had made the mistake of coming here on his way to the city.

Cady’s life was threatened. The Shadow still had time to save it!

Even as Foulkrod Kendall still sat mopping his brow, a black-garbed phantom was gliding swiftly across the lawn that surrounded the mansion!

IN his little room, Kendall finally regained his composure. Calculating the distance between the mansion and the fork as compared with the distance from the fork to the factory, Kendall felt sure that Tim Mecke could beat Cady to the meeting spot.

The millionaire arose to go into the other room. The telephone bell rang. Kendall hesitated, then picked up the instrument. The voice of Silk Elverton came over the wire.

“Where are you?” demanded Kendall.

“In New Avalon,” returned Silk. “Do you want me to come up to the house?”

“No — no!” exclaimed Kendall. “We are in a desperate situation. Listen closely, Elverton—”

Ignoring Silk’s prompt question, the millionaire told the crook about Donald Cady’s visit. He gave Silk the information about Vic Marquette. He concluded with an account of his emergency call to Tim Mecke.

A laugh came over the wire.

“Don’t worry,” decided Silk. “Tim Mecke will get that mug sure. You say that Marquette knows nothing so far?”

“According to Cady,” returned Kendall, “Marquette merely suspects that Barbier and Cumo are in this vicinity.”

“Phone them,” ordered Silk. “Tell them to stick in the factory. Meanwhile, I’ll mooch over to the New Avalon Hotel and see if I can spot this secret-service guy. Leave it to me; I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Foulkrod Kendall was wearing a smile when he hung up the telephone. He strolled out into the living room to talk with Doctor Guyon.

The hand of crime had been loosed tonight. Silk Elverton’s assurance of Tim Mecke’s prowess was sufficient for Foulkrod Kendall.

But neither Kendall nor Elverton had reckoned with The Shadow! He — the master fighter — had set forth to stay the hand of crime!