"I realized that, inspector," smiled Mogridge, "but I knew that you had the same opportunity. I felt that you would be more proficient."

Mogridge's reply was about what Cardona expected. Cardona had argued the point merely to seem impartial when he went on with other quizzes. The time had arrived for an important question. Cardona turned to Ungler.

"You did your bit," he told the secretary. "The breaks were against you, that was all. You couldn't handle both those crooks at one time. Tell me one thing, though, Ungler. How did you know they were down here?"

"I heard them from the third floor," began the secretary. "You see, I was feeling out of sorts tonight. I had retired early. I was aroused by a loud voice."

"You heard Marotte talking?" put in Berkland, suddenly entering the conversation. "That seems impossible, Ungler. The door of your room must have been closed."

"The door happened to be open, sir," protested the secretary. "You see, I had not exactly retired. I still had my clothes on. I was reading in my room, with the door open. When I heard the loud voices, I brought my automatic and came down as fast as I could." His plea finished, Ungler looked toward Cardona and added in a wheedling, apologetic tone: "I intended to be more careful with the gun tonight, sir. Perhaps I was too careful. I had the opportunity to shoot both of those men, but I failed. I was tricked by Doxol; and Marotte was too quick for me."

"You did one thing in a hurry," observed Cardona. "You learned the names of both of them without being in here."

Ungler never blinked. He did not seem to catch the import of Cardona's suggestion that he might have known the crooks beforehand.

"I heard the conversation," explained the secretary, "while I was creeping down the stairs. Their names happened to be mentioned. You see, I was on the stairs at the time Doxol arrived to aid Marotte."

CARDONA eyed the secretary for a few short moments, then turned suddenly toward Woolford. That young man was huddled in his chair, staring gloomily toward Marotte's body.

"You were quick enough, Woolford," observed Cardona. "It's lucky you showed up when you did. How long did you wait before you breezed in here"

"I'm - I'm sorry about all this," stammered Woolford. "From the way it looks, I suppose you'd have preferred to take that man alive." He pointed toward Marotte as he spoke. "I didn't want to kill him. I never shot anybody before; I never want to again. But he was fighting The Shadow."

"You've heard of The Shadow, eh?"

"Yes. Some friends of mine mentioned him as a person who made trouble for crooks. I arrived just as The Shadow dashed across the room. I could see that he was fighting for you. That is why I grabbed up the gun he dropped."

"And you figured yourself a good enough shot to pick off Marotte without clipping The Shadow?"

"Yes. The two were side by side. I am a good shot when I'm sober. I've been sober, too, ever since the night I made such a fool of myself down at the auction house."

Berkland inserted a testy remark.

"Soberness seems to endow you with second sight," declared the oil magnate. "It is quite remarkable that you should have arrived here at so crucial a moment. Whose thought waves did you receive to tell you that you might be needed?"

"I talked to Lenore, Mr. Berkland," explained Woolford, seriously. "Or, rather, Lenore talked to me. When we went out tonight she told me that there might be trouble here. I asked her why, and she told me that you had an appointment with one of the men who had stolen your rubies. She said that you intended to keep it alone."

"I did say that to Lenore," admitted Berkland. "but I also told her to keep the matter confidential. What did she do - send you back here to look out for me?"

Woolford nodded. He watched Berkland closely and saw that the gem owner accepted the explanation. Woolford's face showed prompt relief. He, like the others, was one who had given good reason for his actions.

THE whole situation stumped Joe Cardona. Joe realized that it would be wise to avoid further questions. Briskly, he stepped to the telephone and put in a call to headquarters. He summoned detectives and a police surgeon.

Watching the others while he spoke, Cardona noticed that Woolford shifted uneasily.

"Are you going to hold me, inspector?" queried Woolford, when Cardona completed the call. "Because I shot that fellow Doxol?"

"Marotte was the one you shot," corrected Cardona. "I'll detain you here, Woolford, along with everyone else. Technically, you can be regarded as amember of this household. Since Mr. Berkland and Mr. Mogridge were acting under my official orders, the same applies to you.

"That covers you too, Ungler." Cardona looked toward the secretary as he spoke. "You have a permit for your gun and had a right to use it against known criminals."

Swinging back to Woolford. Cardona added: "It might have been different if you had come in here with a gun of your own. Picking up a loose one in a pinch, was all right."

Cardona made his statement with a purpose. He wanted to show confidence in all present to offset any belief that he still suspected that one man might be the master crook. Cardona's doubts regarding The Shadow's opinion had faded.

Past experience had invariably shown The Shadow to be correct. The Shadow also figured in Cardona's decision not to arrest Woolford. If Cardona took Woolford into custody for bagging Marotte, he would have to start a hunt for The Shadow because the latter had dropped Doxol.

It was not long before Detective Sergeant Markham arrived with other headquarters men; and a police surgeon came soon afterward. Cardona took the others into the library while the bodies were being examined. There, he had them make complete statements: Berkland first, then Mogridge and Ungler, in turn.

Woolford was ready when Cardona turned to him; but before he could begin, a detective arrived from downstairs. With the detective was Lenore Berkland.

Anxiously, the girl asked what had happened. She was told. As Woolford began his statement, Lenore nodded her corroboration to every early detail.

Woolford showed a pleased smile, when he had finished with the account of his later actions.

"Just one point," added Cardona. "When you came in here, Mr. Woolford, you used the front door of the house. How did you happen to have a key for it?"

"Lawrence needed no key," put in Lenore, promptly. "I saw to it that the front door was unlatched, when we went out. Father had told me that his visitor was coming in by the side door. That's why I wanted Lawrence to enter by the front one."

Cardona turned to Berkland, to ask: "You told Miss Berkland about the side door?"

"Of course," returned Berkland. "I can not criticize Lenore for what she told Woolford. She naturally supposed that I would be alone, because I spoke to her before I conferred with Mogridge. But there is someone else whom we must think about, inspector. What has become of your friend Cranston?"

CARDONA swung instantly to the closed door of the little stack room. He yanked the door open, entered hurriedly when he saw a tall figure stretched in a chair near the front of the room. Cardona shook The Shadow's shoulder; he saw Cranston's eyes open and blink. Lips formed a smile.

"h.e.l.lo, Cardona," remarked The Shadow, in the casual tone of Cranston. "I must have dropped asleep. No wonder. The air in here is stuffy and this old volume is very slow reading."

He picked up one of Berkland's rare books that lay open on the table, replaced it on the shelf and walked from the stack room with Cardona. The Shadow's eyes showed feigned surprise, when they observed the a.s.sembled group.

The Shadow looked to Cardona for an explanation. Cardona gave the details ofthe fray in the study.

"Most amazing!" expressed The Shadow. "Odd that I should have dozed all through the excitement. I did not hear a disturbing sound all the time that I was in that little room."

"No wonder," observed Berkland, offering an explanation. "The stack room is practically soundproof, when the door is closed. In addition, there are other doors between the library and the study."

Cardona completed arrangements. Markham was to remain in charge, with another man inside the house. Since the two were armed, Cardona ordered the removal of the machine gun and the confiscation of Berkland's revolver and Ungler's automatic. Other detectives were detailed outside; their instructions were to allow no one to leave the residence after Cardona had gone.

Downstairs, The Shadow called the Cobalt Club, ordered Stanley to bring the limousine. Outside, he and Cardona entered the car when it arrived.

Cardona did not express his belief that the actual master crook was among the persons remaining in Berkland's house. Cardona was satisfied that the man would make no move tonight, not even if he could find a chance to take a shot at The Shadow.

That was The Shadow's own opinion, as he boarded the limousine. He knew that the master villain felt secure; that the criminal's policy would be to make no false move, now that matters had quieted and the law was in charge.

The crook's ident.i.ty had been suppressed by the double deaths of Marotte and Doxol.

Joe Cardona might have been jittery had he guessed that The Shadow and Lamont Cranston were one; but Joe failed to grasp that fact. Even the briefcase that The Shadow calmly laid upon the seat of the limousine did not give Cardona an inkling of the truth. Cardona believed that it actually contained papers.

He would have been amazed had he learned that the real contents were The Shadow's garb and guns.

But there was one man who had guessed the truth; and The Shadow knew it.

That was why he looked back toward Berkland's house as the limousine rolled away. The occupants had left the library; the lights on the second floor were out. Yet The Shadow was confident that one person in that house was watching the limousine's departure; that the watcher was the master criminal himself.

The Shadow's lips showed a smile when the limousine rounded the corner.

THE SHADOW'S surmise was right. There was a watcher peering from the house - a person who had remained in the darkness of the library, to stare from the blackened windows. Lips were phrasing an ugly, muttered oath. Evil eyes were glaring their malice when the limousine disappeared.

The master crook had chosen the only possible policy. He was wise enough to know that a move tonight would be his own betrayal. But the glare of his malicious eyes told that soon the murderer would seek a way to settle with The Shadow.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE SHADOW CONFERS.

THREE days had pa.s.sed since the affray at Berkland's. During those days a lull had followed action. The law had gained no further leads. Public criticismwas lacking, however; for the recovery of two more jewels had been sensational proof that the police could gain results.

Details of the fray at Berkland's had been carefully suppressed. The testimony of the witnesses, when published, included a general agreement that there had been confusion. Woolford was admittedly the man who had shot Marotte with a gun that he had picked up from the floor. No one, however, took the credit for picking off Doxol.

Witnesses concurred in the statement that the first deadly shot had come from the doorway where Woolford had later appeared. The bullet that had finished Doxol was from the same gun that had been used to get Marotte. By mentioning nothing of The Shadow's struggle, the question had been left open.

Either someone had fired from the doorway, dropped his gun and gone; or Woolford, in his excitement, had shot down two crooks instead of one.

The newspapers jumped for the latter story. It made good news copy.

Woolford, the indolent society man had shown his mettle. In their willingness to get such a story, reporters had so bombarded Cardona with leading questions that it had been easy for him to let them have it their own way.

Joe smoothed that, in clever fashion, by handling all interviews in person. He abridged the statements made by Berkland, Mogridge, Ungler and Woolford; told all four to stick to the shorter stories. They agreed willingly; through their cooperation, Cardona omitted The Shadow's presence.

Other news was heralded in print.

The rubies recovered from Marotte and Doxol were in the custody of the International a.s.sociation of Jewelers. They had been tested in like manner as the previous gems. They were p.r.o.nounced genuine. Five of the Seven Drops of Blood had been regained. Tobias Berkland, incidentally, had received a new check for one hundred thousand dollars.

The police had found a hotel suite where Marotte and Doxol had been living; there, they uncovered another supply of unfenced gems. As before, none of these were items of great individual value.

There was one important item of news that the newspapers printed, but did not connect with the story of Berkland's rubies. In fact, the item was no more than a paragraph that appeared in the society columns. It mentioned that Lamont Cranston had left New York for a short trip. The millionaire's destination was not mentioned.

DESPITE the statement regarding his departure, The Shadow had not left New York. On this particular evening, he was seated in a hotel room high above the city, reading a newspaper.

The Shadow was attired in ordinary street clothes; but no one would have identified him as Lamont Cranston. He had changed his features; they were rounded and heavier than those that he employed as Cranston. Only a trace of his hawkish appearance remained.

The Shadow had donned a mythical ident.i.ty that he used on certain occasions. At this hotel, he was registered in the name of Henry Arnaud.

A ring of the telephone bell interrupted The Shadow's reading. Answering in a tone that differed from Cranston's, The Shadow learned that a Mr. Clark Copley had arrived to see him. He said for the visitor to come up.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. The Shadow admitted a smiling, red-faced man, whose manner was brisk.

"I would have been here sooner, Mr. Arnaud," informed Copley, "only I was late getting back to Cincinnati. Got my line with me." He planked a sample case on a trunk rack. This time it's imitation jewels instead of pearls. That's what your wire said for me to bring." The Shadow nodded. Copley opened the sample case. The sparkle of imitation gems was plain in the light.

"Some of these are beauts," began Copley. "Only an expert can tell the paste stuff from the real, without a close examination. If you want replica of famous gems, I've got them."

"Sit down, Mr. Copley," interposed The Shadow, as he studied the false gems. "There is something I want to ask you about."

The Shadow produced an envelope from the writing desk, tucked it handily in a pocket then began to speak.

"Your arrival" he said, "was prompt enough to indicate that you have probably guessed the reason why I called you to New York. My business is that of a special investigator. I handle robbery cases."

Copley nodded. He had formed the conclusion that the mysterious Mr.

Arnaud was an insurance investigator.

"At present," continued The Shadow, "I am concerned with certain rubies known as the Seven Drops of Blood."

Copley's look became intent. He had read the newspapers thoroughly and knew all the details that had reached the public concerning Berkland's gems.

"Five of those rubies have been reclaimed," declared The Shadow.

"Unfortunately, the law has made no progress in finding the other two. In a few days, an exposition opens. At that time, the International a.s.sociation of Jewelers would like to display the Seven Drops of Blood, which are their property. However, they need two more rubies."

Copley shook his head.

"It wouldn't do, Mr. Arnaud," he a.s.serted. "You couldn't get a pair of phony rubies that would stand up alongside the real ones. They'd look like gla.s.s."

"Perhaps a display of seven imitations -"

"Nope. That wouldn't do, either. The real rubies are too large to be properly copied. Some other gems might be copied - particularly small ones, you understand - but not those babies. Any one who ever saw the real Drops of Blood would know that it was a fake proposition."

THE SHADOW smiled.

"Suppose, Mr. Copley," he proposed, "that we talk of synthetic stones, instead of imitations. We know that it is possible, by chemical processes and application of tremendous heat, to produce gems that have the exact composition of those which have been mined from the earth."

"You're right, Mr. Arnaud," returned Copley. "You're talking right down my alley. There isn't a trick in the artificial gem business that I have missed.

There's been some real discoveries in that line, and rubies have, somehow, been the biggest target.

"Sixty years ago, they developed some corundum crystals that were dead ringers for natural rubies. Hard enough in formation to cut a topaz, they were.

Thirty years ago, the Verneuil process came in. It takes an oxyhydrogen blowpipe and a coal gas flame temperature of two thousand degrees. They've built up gem rubies with it.

"But the electric furnace has gone still further. It's turned out synthetic diamonds, only they've been mighty tiny. With rubies, they've fusedchips and small imperfect stones, added coloring oxide and built them up.

They've even raised the question in law courts as to just what's an artificial gem.

"Only the cost would be too great to produce something first cla.s.s.