Part 2 (1/2)
Lost beneath a pile of gripping foemen, The Shadow could see Creelon leering from above. One hand over his head, The Shadow sledged hard with the other, trying to batter into the clear. His efforts ended when a slugging revolver glanced from his protecting wrist and clipped the side of his head.
Half dazed, The Shadow sagged. Hands clutched his arms; gripped his throat.
Three seconds later, The Shadow was spread-eagled on the floor, sliding into unconsciousness from the pounding his head had received, choking from the clutches at his throat, paralyzed by the weight of a half a dozen foemen.
Framed above, the last sight that The Shadow could remember was the fire-tinted visage of Hugo Creelon, glaring with the evil glory of a conqueror who had overcome his greatest foe.
CHAPTER IV.
WITHOUT A TRACE.
SOON after The Shadow's encounter with Hugo Creelon, a stocky, mustached man arrived at the Hotel Barlingham and went up to Senator Releston's apartment. The senator immediately received the stocky man; his visitor was Vic Marquette, of the secret service.
The two had cooperated before, for Senator Releston had always been active in pus.h.i.+ng investigations that pertained to government matters. To-night, however, Marquette looked disgruntled and Releston was prompt to notice it. He inquired as to the trouble. Marquette was hesitant for a few moments; then he spoke bluntly.
”It's about the NEC, senator,” stated Vic. ”The day after it turned out to be missing, you and I had a conference.”
”Of course,” returned Releston. ”I promised you my cooperation, and I have given it.”
”You told me that you would see that facts reached The Shadow.” ”Which I have done, through giving them to his friend, Lamont Cranston.
The president himself summoned Mr. Cranston to to-day's court-martial proceedings!”
Releston spoke with an emphasis that indicated he had gone through with his bargain. Marquette, however, was not satisfied. As bluntly as before, he declared: ”You agreed to something else, senator: You said that you would notify us regarding any conversation that you had with Cranston; where he would be in case we wished to contact him -”
Releston started an interruption, but Marquette was in no mood to hear it.
Snappily, Vic added: ”You failed to do that, senator! I have just come from Was.h.i.+ngton police headquarters, where I learned of the attack made upon Cranston at the Hotel Halcyon!”
Senator Releston sat flabbergasted. Whatever he had intended to say was forgotten through his astonishment at this news. Realizing that he had dumfounded the senator, Marquette added the details.
”It happened at eight-twenty,” declared the secret service operative.
”Cranston had just gone up to his suite. The police learned that because he stopped at the check room to get a bag. The telephone operator also reported signals at the switchboard; some one clicking a telephone receiver. Then came the shots.”
”The shots?”
”Yes. From Cranston's suite. A regular barrage that ripped the bedroom wall! People heard the gunfire in the street; they reported that some one dashed from the fire tower and made off in a car that was parked in the alleyway. The car got away. Meanwhile, hotel employees reached the suite -”
”And found Cranston?”
Releston's question was filled with anxiety. It brought a grim headshake from Marquette.
”No,” declared Vic. ”Cranston was gone. What happened to him is a mystery.”
SENATOR RELESTON showed relief. He regarded Lamont Cranston as a person under the protection of The Shadow. Cranston, alive, would surely be safe.
Releston hastened to a.s.sure Marquette on that point, and he used a logical method.
”Cranston could not have been abducted,” a.s.serted the senator. ”The fact that the attempted a.s.sa.s.sin fled is proof that he could not have carried Cranston with him. It seems obvious that Cranston merely departed in order to avoid the delay that would be caused by talking to the police.”
Marquette apparently shared the senator's opinion; but Vic had something else on his mind and he expressed it.
”You've missed the important point, senator. Whoever tried to get Cranston unquestionably had something to do with the theft of the National Emergency Code. He either was the man who took it, or he's some one who wants it. If you had notified me that Cranston was at the Halcyon, I would have been there, too.
We could have grabbed the man who tried to murder Cranston.”
Releston nodded his agreement. Again he started to make the statement that he had previously intended. Once more, Marquette interrupted him.
”You can still help us, senator,” declared Vic. ”Tell me this: Who beside yourself met Cranston at the court-martial? That is, who saw him long enough to have suspected that he might have come from The Shadow?”
”No one,” replied Releston. Then, with sudden afterthought: ”Wait,though!
Frederick Bryland rode with us, in my limousine! He knew that Cranston was coming here!”
”Bryland, eh? The fellow who used to be an army major? He's not in too good standing, senator. Maybe he's mixed in the theft of the NEC. You gave him a clean slate on that visit to Follingsby's; but to-night makes it look bad -”
Senator Releston shook his head. He produced some memo pads from his desk and handed them to Marquette.
”I keep a record of all telephone calls,” said Releston, ”including the time when they are received. Bryland called me to-night, at half past eight.
There is the memo, Marquette.”
”That was ten minutes after the attack at the Halcyon -”
”But Bryland's call was from his home in Fairfax. A full half-hour's drive from Was.h.i.+ngton. It was unquestionably a Fairfax call. The operator interrupted twice while I was talking to Bryland. There was some trouble with the connection.”
Though Vic Marquette was a keen investigator, he did not jump to the conclusion that The Shadow had formed regarding Bryland's methods. As in the case of the false call to Follingsby, Marquette was convinced. He did not link Bryland's inventive genius with the matter in question. The fact that Bryland could fake Virginia calls from his Was.h.i.+ngton apartment slipped Vic completely.
”That lets Bryland out,” grumbled Marquette. ”Lets him out completely! I guess that covers everything, senator.”
”Not quite!”
THE senator's tone was stern. Marquette looked up to see that Releston had risen. Mildness was gone from the senator's rugged features. His expression was one of severe indignation.
”There is something else to settle, Marquette,” announced Releston. ”You have interrupted me twice when I have tried to speak of it. I refer to your accusation that I did not cooperate with the secret service. You owe me an apology on that score.”
This time, Marquette showed amazement.
”I did not call you,” a.s.serted Releston, ”because I received instructions to the contrary. Early to-day I received a telephone call, telling me to refer all special investigators to a certain man in your own department.”
”Who made that call, senator?”
”Your man himself. One whose integrity could not be questioned. The call came from Agent F-3.”