This action brought more raillery. It also gave Cardona a chance to examine the writing on the metal disk that he had plucked from the flowers:

Thomas Telford

Immediately

Repeating the name to himself, Cardona dropped the disk into his pocket, and looked up the name of Thomas Telford in the phone book. He found it. He called the number. There was no answer. Summoning a squad of men, Cardona lost no time. Two police cars were speeding toward Thomas Telford's Long Island home. The cars were filled with detectives who wondered if their leader had experienced an attack of sunstroke.

The first car pulled up at Telford's bungalow. Cardona clambered out and dashed into the house, with three men at his heels. In the lighted room they found the body of Martin Slade!

Murder!

The detectives were amazed. How had Cardona received the tip? Through a bunch of violets? The ridicule that had attended those ludicrous bouquets of flowers was now a thing of the past. Cardona was reading the paper that lay on the desk beside the dead man. Its paragraphs were brief and to the point. They told much that Martin Slade had done.

Something in the confession stirred the detective to instant action. Ordering one detective to remain at Telford's home, Cardona turned to the rest of his men.

"Come on," he said briskly. "We're going back to Manhattan. We've got something more important than this to worry about."

The detectives were buzzing as they hurried to the cars in response to Cardona's mysterious command. To the drivers, Joe Cardona gave the order that announced the destination of this quickly formed raiding squad.

"Head for the Callao Hotel," ordered the detective. "Get going and keep going!" The Shadow had again spurred Joe Cardona on the trail.

Chapter XXI — The Spirit Appears

There was tenseness in the seance room at Rajah Brahman's. Behind the closed curtains of the spirit cabinet, a shade from the astral plane was seeking to regain earthly form. Not a person present disturbed the impressive silence.

"A woman in our midst," declared Rajah Brahman solemnly. "A woman who has lost a loved one. Soon she shall see again the face of the person whom she knew.

"The spirit is speaking. I can hear its voice. It says the name of Garwood — Maude Garwood. Will she answer?"

"I am here!" exclaimed Maude Garwood, in a breathless tone.

The curtains of the cabinet were open. A luminous spot was showing, several feet above the floor of the cabinet. The spot enlarged. It became a moving face. Slowly, the complete head and neck appeared. The face was turned toward Maude Garwood.

"The spirit shall speak!" declared Rajah Brahman impressively.

A terrific scream came from Maude Garwood. The woman collapsed and fell to the floor. Rajah Brahman sat startled on his throne. The spirit was speaking— and its words were plain.

"I am the spirit of Dick Terry," came the voice. "Not long ago I was here with you — on the earthly plane. Now I have gone to the other world. I was murdered — murdered and there is the man who decreed my death!"

A hand appeared beside the floating face. Its long, shining finger pointed directly toward the enthroned mystic!

Gasps and cries sounded about the circle. All had seen Dick Terry alive. They recognized his features now. To Rajah Brahman, the thing was incredible!

Had Tony double-crossed him? No — that could not be possible! This looked like Dick Terry — it must be Dick Terry!

Yet Dick Terry was dead. His slayer, Barney Gleason, was here to-night. Martin Slade had been sure that Dick Terry was dead!

A sudden fear swept over the astonished faker. Reaching beneath his cobra robe, he drew a short, stub-nosed revolver. He paused, remembering the mistake of Professor Jacques. He had stopped just in time. To test this accusing form with a bullet could do no good. This was The Shadow's doing! Was this The Shadow, playing the part of Dick Terry?

Gaining sudden decision, Rajah Brahman leaped from his throne and hurled himself across the room, away from that head that floated in the darkness. He reached the wall switch, and was about to press it. Suddenly he realized that this would end his well-laid plans of many months. He must face this issue — face it without revealing the fact that he was a faker and a rogue.

"Back! Back, evil spirit!" he ordered, advancing through the dark. "Back to the other plane! Depart, thou lying spirit—"

A peal of mocking laughter resounded through the seance room. Wild, taunting, and uncanny, the rollicking mirth seemed like a cry from the dim beyond. It threw an atmosphere of realism into this scene that surpassed imagination.

"Back — depart—"

Rajah Brahman's cries were pitiful as their quivering tones were drowned amid another tremendous burst of merriment that seemed to come from the walls and ceiling. Dying, shuddering echoes followed that laugh. Then, at the most terrifying moment, the lights came on.