"Yes," interrupted the rajah, "but there's another trouble now. Mrs. Garwood has come to New York, as Anita Marie told her to do. But she has brought her nephew along with her. A fellow from Texas, named Dick Terry. He was here to-night at the seance."
"Did he try to queer your act?"
"No. On the contrary, I fooled him completely. But I've sized him up, Slade, and he's going to be a tough customer. It would be best to have him out of the picture."
"That's easy, here in New York. You know how I stand with Barney Gleason's mob. They don't know my racket. They'll do what I tell them — cheap."
"All right. Keep that in mind. But remember — it's got to be done so the old lady won't suspect anything is wrong. Fix it so the nephew disappears, and is in wrong with his aunt. Think it over, Slade. See me about it later."
"I'll do that, Bert. What's the other job?"
"An easy one for you, Slade. I've added a new sucker to the list — an easy play if I can get the story. Jacques left a complete report on him. He was here to-night. Tony!"
The last word was in a louder tone. The white clad form of Imam Singh entered the sanctum.
"Get me the dope on Telford," ordered Rajah Brahman.
The assistant went away, and returned with a sheet of paper. Rajah Brahman smiled as he consulted the document, holding it close to the light so he could read it more readily.
"Here's the dope, Slade," he said. "Telford is a wealthy man from New Orleans. We don't have a psychic circle there, yet, or we probably would have landed him direct.
"However, Telford had a row with his only son, several years ago. The son ran away. The old man heard from him in New York. He learned that the son — James — had gone to sea. He thinks that the boy drowned in a ship that sunk off the coast of Virginia.
"Telford has been living in a house on Long Island, hoping that he might trace poor young Jim — if the boy is still alive.
"Lately, he got the idea that maybe if his son was dead, the spirits could be of help. That's how he happened to get in touch with Professor Jacques.
"So far, the information is meager, but Jacques has learned one thing that is going to help. Telford has accumulated everything pertaining to his son — letters that young Jim wrote; a diary that he kept; newspaper clippings; photographs and what not."
"Did Jacques see any of them?" questioned Slade.
"No," replied the rajah. "That's the best part of it. The old man has them all in a safe out on Long Island. He's living alone in a small home. An old housekeeper is there, but she's a bit deaf. Jacques talked to her on the telephone once."
"So my job is—"
"To crack that safe some night when Telford is away. Find out all you can — but don't leave any traces. Telford said something about going up to Boston to-morrow to see an old seaman who was on the same boat with his son.
"Get this: the old man talks about his grief, but he's cagey. That's why I like it. When I begin to give him specific information, he will fall like a ton of bricks."
"If he's going to be away," said Slade thoughtfully, "I may be able to bring the stuff in here, and take it back after you've looked at it."
"Great!" exclaimed the rajah. "If you can work it that way, so much the better."
"That means I'll have to stay in New York," said Slade. "Well, the other jobs can wait. St. Louis is all right. So is Cleveland. The Chicago job is off for the present, anyhow. Madame Plunket is working there, now, instead of Cincinnati.
"The chief and I talked about it, this afternoon. She has most of the members of the old psychic circle, and it isn't a good idea to work on her customers so soon after the Dykeman job."
"That settles it, then," said the rajah. "Go after Telford right away. Then look over the Garwood proposition. I want that fellow Terry out of the way."
Rajah Brahman paced slowly back and forth across the room. He was an incongruous figure, now, in his shirt sleeves.
He was thinking about something of importance — a matter which he wished to discuss with Martin Slade. But he was doubtful of the advisability. At last, he stopped and put his first statement into the form of a question.
"What else did the chief have to say?" asked the rajah.
"He talked about the copper stock," said Slade. "It's going great guns. He's letting it out as fast as the brokers call for it. He says if it keeps on the way it's going now, he'll unload completely and start on another line."
"He'd better be thinking about it pretty quickly, then," declared Rajah Brahman. "When he dropped Consolidated Timber and started an Coronado Copper, it took a couple of months for the suckers to switch.
"They were still crying for the timber stock. That means a switch all along the line. Little Flower can't begin to change her tune overnight, and there's a flock of mediums working her overtime right now."
"He's going to speak to you about it," said Slade.
"Did he mention anything else?" questioned the rajah.
"Nothing of importance."
"Maybe he thought it would be best to keep quiet," said Rajah Brahman, "but it's up to me as well as to him. So I'm going to let you in on it, Slade.
"I was talking with the chief the other night. We were discussing that affair up at the Dalban. We thought — only thought, mind you — that maybe The Shadow was mixed in it."
"The Shadow!" exclaimed Slade.
A change came over the man's calm face. He glanced about him as though expecting a sinister form to emerge from the curtains of the anteroom. Rajah Brahman eyed his confederate closely.
"Did you ever see The Shadow?" he asked.
"No," returned Slade. "I don't want to see him, either! I've kept clear of him for a long while, Bert. They say he's uncanny — that he can be everywhere at once. I don't like it, Bert, if he's in it—"
"Don't talk foolishly, Slade," argued Rajah Brahman. "We're only discussing possibilities. It looks like The Shadow, and it doesn't look like him. That's enough, isn't it? All it means is to keep your eyes open."
"I'll do that, Bert! If I get the least suspicion that The Shadow is wise to anything, I won't be asleep a minute. I work smooth, Bert, and there's only one man in the country who could get on my trail if he ever went after it. That's The Shadow himself!"
"It doesn't concern you, at present," said the rajah quietly. "The Jacques affair was a mistake. It's not linked with any of your doings. I'm only telling you, because you're working in New York, right now. The Shadow doesn't fool around the sticks. Cincinnati — Philadelphia — all the rest of them. The Shadow isn't in those places."
"That's right, Bert," said Slade, in a relieved tone.
"I'm the one who must be careful," declared Rajah Brahman. "And I'm not worried about The Shadow. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't mind meeting him. If he's as slippery as they say he is, he'd be a, good assistant to use in the spook cabinet."
The tone of derision made Martin Slade grin. His momentary qualms were ended. He spoke reassuringly.
"You don't have to worry," declared Slade. "What if The Shadow should find out that Rajah Brahman was Bert Clutten? You've never been mixed up in the killings, directly. Neither has Tony."
"I said that I was not worrying," responded Rajah Brahman. "But I'm on the lookout, just the same. If The Shadow took a shot at the seance Jacques was giving, he may try the same with me. That's all."
"He can't do it, Bert," declared Slade emphatically. "From all I hear, it's beginning to leak out that the police are after a stranger who was at the Dalban seance. The rumor is that they think an unknown man killed Harvey. So that bird — whether he's The Shadow or not — will have to lay low for a while."
"That's what the chief and I decided," said Rajah Brahman. "But I have a different idea about it, now. I wouldn't be surprised if The Shadow should pop into my seance room any night. You know who's handling the Harvey murder, don't you?"