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Ten minutes later, a light clicked in a small room. A green-shaded lamp cast a luminous circle upon the surface of a table.

Two hands appeared in the lighted spot. They were those same long-fingered hands that had wiped the desk in police headquarters. The only difference lay in the left hand. Upon it glowed a mysterious gem, a fire opal that shone with the peculiar dim spark of a dying ember.

The hands of The Shadow were at work!

Those hands were both nimble and active. They constantly disappeared and reappeared, each time with a definite purpose.

They brought into view that same rolled sheet of thin paper that Fritz the janitor had pressed upon his desk in police headquarters. The hands spread out the paper.

One fingernail scratched the corner of the sheet and made a slight line in a waxy surface. The other hand produced a small vial that contained a black powder. This was shaken upon the flattened sheet of paper.

The substance was graphite. The fingers rubbed the black powder upon the smooth paper.

The result was immediate. It explained exactly what had happened. The surface of Inspector Burke's desk had been rubbed with wax. His writing had left invisible impressions, pressing through the paper upon which he had written.

The waxy surface, with its indentations, had been recorded on the thin sheet of paper. Now the graphite revealed a blackened scrawl, in reverse.

The hands raised the thin sheet, turned it over, and held it before the bright light. There, in plain writing was revealed the complete report written by Inspector Burke. Every detail of his interview with Doctor Heinrich Zerndorff was now plain to The Shadow.

The thin paper remained before the light. Hidden eyes were studying it. A mind in the darkness was remembering every detail.

The paper was crumpled and thrown away. The hands dropped to the table. They brought a pad and pencil into view.

The right hand began to write, forming beautiful letters that seemed to represent exact and carefully chosen thoughts.

"Doctor Zerndorff," the hand wrote, "has chosen a wise and careful course. He has a keen brain. Yet he has accepted the obvious — through ignorance of certain facts.

"He has, as yet, received no tangible information from Detective Cardona. Even when he gains it — as he will — he may not realize what lies behind these events.

"He suspects a mastermind. He is correct. He suspects terrorism. There, he is incorrect."

An envelope appeared upon the table in place of the pad and paper. It bore the words: "Clippings from Clyde Burke."

The hands brought forth the clippings. Each was an account of a different explosion. Conspicuous in each was a list of those who had been killed.

A long, slender forefinger ran down the list of names in the first clipping, which bore the notation "Wall Street Explosion."

The finger stopped upon one name — that of Richard Pennypacker, who was listed as a broker, age forty-two.

Into view came a typed list, which was headed: "Men Concerned With Hubert Banks." In that list appeared the name of Richard Pennypacker; beneath it, the following notation: Stockbroker. Has known Banks seven years. Acquainted with important details concerning Banks' financial status.

Next the hands touched a clipping that bore the notation "Grand Central Explosion." Here the finger found another victim's name — Glen Houghton, listed as an attorney, thirty-one years old. This name was checked.

The fingers slipped across the table to the typewritten list. There appeared the same name — Glen Houghton. Under it was the notation:

Young lawyer associated with the concern of Whitmeyer Barton, attorneys-at-law. This concern has handled legal affairs for Mr. Banks during the past twenty years. Houghton has handled certain details pertaining to Mr. Banks.

A third clipping was under survey. It bore the heading: "Subway Explosion." At the top of the list of victims was the name George V. Houston, clubman, age forty-eight.

The hands seemed to consult between themselves as they moved to the typewritten list. There, at the top, was the name George V. Houston. Information appeared beneath it: This man is a frequent visitor to the home of Hubert Banks. Was once engaged to Mathilda Banks, sister of Hubert Banks. Has known the family for many years.

The fourth clipping, which was marked, "Classic Explosion," came in for a careful inspection while the hands remained motionless.

At length a pencil was taken by the right hand. It passed over the names of the managing editor and the two reporters who had been killed. It stopped at the statement, "Unidentified Man, evidently a visitor to the newspaper office."

There the pencil placed a question mark.

Now the clippings were brushed aside. Another envelope was drawn forth by the hands. It bore the words, "Report of Harry Vincent."

The hands unfolded a typewritten sheet taken from the envelope, and the hidden eyes read:

Richard Pennypacker had his own office in the Tully Building. It was his custom to arrive at the office at nine o'clock. At ten, or shortly afterward, he would leave the office, carrying papers in his briefcase. He went to an office in the Stock Exchange.

He always followed the same route, and he happened to be on his customary path when the explosion occurred in Wall Street.

Beneath this appeared a second tabulation:

Glen Houghton came into work from Mount Vernon. He always came through the Grand Central Station and stopped at one cigar stand to buy cigars for the day. It was his regular custom and he was evidently buying cigars when the explosion occurred.

Then came a third listing:

George V. Houston lived at the New York Barge Club, opposite Central Park. He invariably came downtown at noon. He always took the subway at Columbus Circle. It was just after he entered the station that the explosion occurred, and he was one of the victims.

Three strange coincidences! Three freaks of fate that had brought men to their doom!

There were others who had died, but none of their names appeared in the typewritten list of those who had been associated with Hubert Banks, except one, and it was not ignored.

Along with the listings of Pennypacker, Houghton, and Houston, appeared the name of Perry Warfield. It had its notation, as follows:

Promoter. Has been engaged in various schemes with Hubert Banks. Went to Oklahoma on two occasions to investigate oil wells for Banks. Seems to be well off financially, and sees Banks frequently.

The name of Perry Warfield appeared upon the list supplied by Harry Vincent. But it bore no explanatory remarks. Evidently the long arm of coincidence had not stretched forth to seize this fourth man.

The hands of The Shadow became motionless. Only the changing glow of the fire opal on the third finger of the left hand gave signs of activity. The hands themselves seemed to be formed of molded wax.

Minutes ticked by. Then came a low, slight buzz from the corner of the room. The hands disappeared. A moment later, a whispered voice crept through the silence.

It was the first audible sound that had disturbed the silence since the light had clicked. A low conversation followed. The invisible man was talking over the telephone.

There was a click as the receiver was replaced. Then the hands, were back again at the table. They were writing, filling in the space beneath the name of Perry Warfield, with letters that were as precise and as uniform as those of the typewriter:

Burbank reports word from Vincent. Perry Warfield did not come from his home in Westfield today. He was taken suddenly ill. He will come tomorrow. He arrives at nine, every day and goes directly to the office of Barr Childs, in the Financial Building.