The Ghost Makers

"Jacques is out of the picture. He has been pretty tight about sending up his best payers to the big league. Now, since he forgot himself with the dirk, he's ready to do anything we ask. He wants to forget all his old clientele. I can handle the entire lot.

"Anita Marie has chipped in with a real bet in this Garwood woman. She's good for plenty of jack. Maybe the best sucker of the lot. I'll pay off Anita's mortgage on that joint of hers in Philadelphia, and she'll be tickled green.

"There's a couple of good ones coming from the Middle West, all ripe for my psychic development classes. There's one coming from Cincinnati that is a sure bet."

"You mean Arthur Dykeman?"

"Right. Since his daughter floated to the upper plane, he's been looking everywhere for a materialization. Madame Plunket, out in Cincinnati, passed him along as her contribution.

"The madame goes in for better game than Anita Marie, but she's pretty cheap, too — and Dykeman will be pretty near all profit."

"Thanks to Slade," observed the chief.

"Yes," responded the rajah. "Slade did well there. That's why I figured this Philadelphia proposition would be safe. I didn't waste any time after Anita Marie gave me the news about Mrs. Garwood." There was silence in the darkened room. The shrouding curtain at the doorway masked all light. Rajah Brahman's cigarette had gone. But the interview was not yet over. The rajah had an important matter to discuss.

"Say, chief," he said, "you wrote me that you didn't like the mess up at the Hotel Dalban. You figured that it might mean a lot of trouble of a kind we didn't expect. What did you mean by that?"

"I was thinking about the person who started the trouble," came the quiet reply. "He put Jacques out of commission. He may try something like it again."

"Just a wise guy. Jacques lost his head, that's all."

"No, that isn't all. There was something unreal about the whole affair. The man who commenced it came from nowhere. He went back to where he came. Puffed out of the room like a cloud of smoke!"

"He can't bother us anymore. He probably knows that the police think he did it. He'll lay low from now on."

"Not if he is the man I think he is." There was an ominous tone to the remark. It was impressive even to Rajah Brahman, the man who was law unto himself.

"Do you know who he is, chief?"

"Did you ever hear of The Shadow?"

"The Shadow!" Rajah Brahman's exclamation was a low, quick cry. "Do you think it was The Shadow?"

"I suspect it," said the chief. "The people in that room were a scared lot, and Jacques felt it as badly as any of them. He said that the laugh came from the other world. I wouldn't be surprised if he believed it.

"I have heard that The Shadow laughs like that. I have heard that The Shadow is a man who disappears mysteriously. There are gangsters who are afraid to turn, because they dread The Shadow!"

"The Shadow goes after gunmen," declared Rajah Brahman. "He wouldn't spend his time trying to grab spooks."

"Not ordinarily," replied the chief, "but don't forget that The Shadow plays for big game. If he knew that Jacques was just one member of our ring—"

The voice ended with its fateful suggestion. The remark awoke a responsive chord in Rajah Brahman. The man on the throne was no longer confident.

"I'm glad you told me this, chief," he said. "I see your point, now. We are playing our cards mighty close, but we have our fingers on one of the biggest rackets in the country. We've got to be on the watch.

"If The Shadow is In back of this, he may try to tumble me — like he tumbled Jacques."

"Exactly."

"Well, my eyes are open. I'm taking preferred customers only. A stranger doesn't have a chance up here. You know that, chief."

The rajah spoke with a renewed assurance. He arose from his throne, and strode through the darkened room. He pushed aside the heavy curtain of the anteroom, and beckoned to his companion. The two plotters were quartered in the outer room when Imam Singh joined them.

"Tony," said Rajah Brahman quietly, "it's up to you to keep a close watch on everything. The big work is beginning, and we have a hunch there may be trouble — from The Shadow." The turban-capped servant opened his eyes and nodded.

"Remember it," admonished the shirt-sleeved rajah.

He thrust out his dark-stained hand and received the clasp of his chief. Tony, otherwise known as Imam Singh, ushered the visitor to the door. Rajah Brahman swung about and looked toward the curtain that shrouded the entrance to his sanctum.

He was staring at a mass of solid blackness beside the door. It did not move. Rajah Brahman gave it no further notice. He laughed as he went through the curtain.

A long shadow fell upon the floor of the anteroom. It moved toward the outer door, and a tall, black clad form followed it. The silent stranger merged with the wall as Imam Singh returned. When the servant had left to join his master, somewhere beyond the sanctuary, the stranger in black laughed.