“No, gentlemen, the most that I can hope to do is to induce Hildon, Amboy and Norgan to waive certain claims which they still hold upon our company. That, at least, would benefit the stockholders. But I can not accomplish such a result while Mr. Warlock insists upon denouncing them as scoundrels.”
A momentary silence. Then a stockholder made a motion that Marryat Darring be empowered to treat with the three promoters on the matter of waiving the existing claims. The motion was seconded and carried. Then came a motion for adjournment. It passed; the meeting ended. Warlock approached Darring.
“You were right,” said Warlock to the secretary. “I have been tactless in my dealing with those three. You know as well as I that they are thieves; but you have sense enough not to mention it.”
“Exactly!” replied Darring, with a smile.
“But their reference to Lessep was uncalled for,” resumed Warlock. “I made an appropriation for his turbines, I admit. But the money was for experimental purposes. Had the turbines proven practical—”
“Unfortunately,” interrupted Darring, “Professor Lessep has a bad record so far as his inventions are concerned. He, more than the promoters, can be said to have swindled you. I saw those turbines, Warlock. They were hopeless. You have made a great mistake, Warlock, in giving credit to the ideas of an eccentric inventor like Melrose Lessep.”
“You are wrong, Darring. Gentlemen” — Warlock turned to the departing stockholders — “I call you to witness! Would it restore some of your faith in me if I proved that Professor Lessep is a capable inventor?”
“Yes,” came a reluctant response.
“Very well,” announced Warlock. “To-night, at his laboratory, Professor Lessep intends to perform an experiment in the devisualization of solids. I intend to witness it. I feel that Mr. Darring and others should be present.”
“It does not concern the corporation,” objected Darring. “I told you that long ago, Warlock, when you first mentioned this new invention of Lessep’s. Devisualization of solids has nothing to do with turbines.”
“But Lessep’s success to-night can justify my belief in his inventive genius. It will prove that I was not unreasonable in spending money on his turbines.”
“What do you think, gentlemen?”
Darring’s question brought nods from the stockholders. They seemed to agree that Warlock needed vindication. Darring turned to the president.
“In response to your request,” he said, “I shall attend to-night’s experiment. I would suggest, also, that two of the stockholders be present in addition to myself. Two — or more—”
One man volunteered. The others, however, pleaded previous engagements. It was then that Lamont Cranston stepped forward, just as Findlay Warlock was making another remark.
“The police commissioner will be there,” Warlock was saying. “I have invited him in the belief that Lessep’s experiment may be of use in crime solution. If any one else—”
“I shall be present,” came Cranston’s quiet interruption.
The impromptu meeting adjourned. Stockholders went their separate ways. Warlock and Darring departed together, intending to have dinner; then to go to Lessep’s. They invited Cranston; but he declined, stating that he would meet them at the laboratory.
ON the street, Lamont Cranston hailed a taxi. He ordered the driver to take him to the exclusive Cobalt Club. As the cab rolled along, Cranston leaned back in the cushions of the rear seat and laughed softly through immobile lips.
A strange whisper, that repressed mirth! Yet it told a story of its own. It revealed the true identity of this personage who wore the masklike countenance of Lamont Cranston; it marked a secret purpose— a design of The Shadow!
For this was not the real Lamont Cranston. The actual man who held stock in Centralized Power was still abroad. Guised as Cranston, The Shadow had attended the stockholder’s meeting to gain first-hand information of the swindle that he knew must lie behind the corporation’s failure.
As Cranston, he had heard something that interested him as The Shadow. Professor Lessep’s experiment — one that involved crime solution — was a project that might concern The Shadow in the future.
Police Commissioner Wainwright Barth dined nightly at the Cobalt Club. Barth was a friend of Cranston’s. He would be pleased to learn that Cranston had returned from abroad; glad to know that his friend was also invited to the affair at Lessep’s. They would go there together, once they had met at the Cobalt Club.
Wainwright Barth considered The Shadow to be a myth. That was the occasion for The Shadow’s laugh.
For to-night, the police commissioner would have the honor of accompanying The Shadow — in person — to an event that promised unusual developments.
Yet even The Shadow, at this moment, did not suspect the strange doings that lay in store. Chance was leading him to a happening that was destined to have amazing consequences. The Shadow was approaching the beginning of a trail that would bring astounding crime!
CHAPTER III. THE EXPERIMENT
“HERE we are, Cranston.”
The commissioner’s car had pulled up in front of an old, moldy-looking house on the upper East Side.
Brick-fronted, with white steps cracked above a grimy sidewalk, the place did not seem fitting as the abode of a prominent scientist.
Wainwright Barth stared askance as he viewed the grimy windows, where dull light trickled through crimped shades. The commissioner was a man who considered wealth important; and this first sight of Professor Lessep’s house made him lose stock in his preconceived impressions of the inventor.
Standing on the curb, Barth turned a ruddy, beakish face toward Cranston. Staring through pince-nez spectacles, the commissioner voiced a disapproval that sounded much like an apology.
“I’ve never seen this chap,” said Barth. “Heard of him, only. Professor Melrose Lessep. Come to think of it, his reputation is a bit unsavory. However, he may be a genius, and I have promised to attend his experiment. Let us enter.”
Barth rang the doorbell. The barrier was opened by the professor himself. A tall, wild-eyed man, with a huge shock of unkempt white hair, Melrose Lessep appeared deserving of the title “eccentric.” Yet he was keen in recognizing the visitor who stood on his doorstep.
“The commissioner!” exclaimed Lessep, in a crackly voice. “I am right? Yes? And a friend with you. Come in, gentlemen. This way. To my parlor, where the others await.”
Lessep led the way through a dingy hall, then into a musty parlor that had evidently been opened for to-night’s event. One dozen men were gathered in the little room; among them, Findlay Warlock and Marryat Darring. It was Warlock who sprang forward to greet Barth. The professor made a bow and retired into the hall.
“The laboratory is in there,” explained Warlock wheezily, pointing to a door at the rear of the room. “The professor’s assistant is busy arranging the apparatus. They will call us when they are ready.”
Barth nodded. The presence of men of prominence offset the drab surroundings. Warlock introduced Darring. Barth shook hands with enthusiasm. He had heard of Darring, for the man had accomplished remarkable results in handling the affairs of bankrupt corporations. He knew of Darring’s connection with the Centralized Power Corporation.
“Warlock has told me of his misfortunes,” remarked the commissioner. “From his description of the circumstances, it looks like a swindle on the part of the promoters. What is your opinion, Mr. Darring? Have you—”
“Matters are still undecided,” interposed Darring, in a cautious tone. Then, with a glance about him, he made a nudge toward the corner. “I think we have some reporters here to-night. It would be best to keep them off the subject of Centralized Power.”