"Yes," grunted Dick, still unconvinced. "Wonderful, the way he passed over fifty thousand dollars' worth of jewelry. This rajah is clever, Aunt Maude— very clever — but he is a faker!" Maude Garwood was protesting as they left the room. Dick Terry was not listening. His hand had gone to his coat pocket — and as they were riding downstairs in the elevator, Dick was wondering about an object that he had discovered there.

When they reached the lobby, Dick went out to find the limousine, which had been forced to park a distance away from the hotel. By the light of a street lamp, he brought the object from his pocket. It was a large gold watch. Dick placed it to his ear. The watch was not running. He stared at the dial, then tried to open the case. He could not budge it.

How had he obtained this timepiece? Dick could give no explanation. Unless it had materialized in his pocket, there was no way of explaining its presence there. Dick pocketed the watch in bewilderment. Then, to his ears, came the slight echo of a startling laugh. Strange, sinister tones that seemed to have no author. Dick glanced about him, startled. There was no one nearby.

The ripples of the laugh died away. The sound was more uncanny than the strange manifestations that had taken place in Rajah Brahman's seance room.

What was the meaning of that laugh? Had some one — a weird phantom of the night — seen him glancing at the mysterious watch? Were there really spooks, that came and went in the darkness?

Dick Terry was bewildered more than before. He felt that he was on the border of the unexplainable. He did not know that he had heard the laugh of The Shadow!

Chapter XI — Rogues Agree

When Imam Singh reappeared in Rajah Brahman's seance room, to indicate that the last of the visitors had gone, the seer arose from his throne and cast aside his resplendent turban.

"It all went smooth to-night, Tony," he said. "Good work, boy!" With his assistant's aid, the mystic divested himself of the remainder of his Hindu garb, and drew the package of cigarettes from his trousers pocket. While he smoked, Tony brought in the basin, towel, and jar of cold cream. Rajah Brahman laid his cigarette aside and attacked his make-up. Smooth-faced, and several shades lighter in complexion, he stretched his arms and laughed. Then he went to the tall table that stood in a corner of the room — the same table that Imam Singh had brought forward for the slate writing.

The transformed seer turned the table upside down. From a rack like slide, he removed a blank slate.

"I knocked that nephew goggle-eyed, didn't I?" he asked. "This is a sweet stunt, the way I work it now, Tony. I pulled out the message slate with one hand, while I slid the blank into the slots. That was the time I didn't get the message."

He paused and laughed.

"They sure fell for it," he added. "Neither the dame nor her nephew had an idea that she was writing her name on top of a slate that already had the message! I let her handle it alone from then on. I thought that copy of the old man's writing would knock them dead."

Tony, no longer wearing the solemn countenance of Imam Singh, was grinning as he carried the garments of the rajah into the adjoining room. The unmasked Hindu made a brief inspection of the cabinet at the side of the room, then joined his assistant.

Picking up the jacket of his Hindu costume, Rajah Brahman felt among its folds. Not discovering what he sought, he turned to his companion.

"Where did you put the phony watch, Tony?"

"It must be there still."

"I can't find it. Sure you didn't take it out of the secret pocket?"

"No."

"That's funny," declared the rajah. "I shoved it there when I yanked my hand away from Castelle — just before I gave you the word to turn on the lights."

"Maybe that's it," said Tony, pointing to an object on a table in the corner. "I don't remember putting it there, though."

Rajah Brahman picked up a watch that was lying on the table. He placed the stem to his lips. He blew a puff of air, and the watch itself slid away along a noiseless telescoping rod that stretched its slender length a distance of six feet.

Gripping the stem beneath his teeth, the rajah puffed slowly, and the front of the watch opened. A balloonlike form came into view— appearing more like a toy than a spirit — for there was light in this room.

The mystic shook his head. He sucked in his breath. The balloon flopped into the watch. Rajah's head went back, and the bulk of the fake watch slid down the telescopic rod. The rajah locked it with a click of the stem, and laid the watch on the table.

"That's the old one," he declared. "I had it out to-night, before the seance. I was using the new one — it makes a spook twice as big as the other, so it's more effective.

"Take a look around the seance room, Tony," he added with a touch of worry. "It would be a bad thing to have that lying where someone might pick it up."

Before the assistant could start forth on his search, a buzzer sounded.