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That was the one thought that had impressed the detective more and more. With that mysterious name uppermost in his mind, Cardona had become singularly mute and unresponsive. He had gained the privilege that he had desired — complete freedom in the handling of the Harvey case. But he knew well that, should Commissioner Weston suspect the detective's mind was reverting to The Shadow, the solution of the crime would become the work of other men at headquarters. Often in his career, Cardona had seen traces of The Shadow. He knew well that the name alone could bring terror to the black hearts of hardened gangsters.

Crooks had died, gasping that strange name. Time and again, the plans of clever mobsters had been thwarted by The Shadow.

Who was The Shadow?

Cardona had no idea whatever. He knew simply that the strange man who identified himself by that name was the sworn enemy of crime.

A power of vengeance, he descended upon skulking criminals, and brought them to account for their misdeeds. Often had The Shadow's terrible automatics barked forth their message of doom to those who fought the law.

Yet, even the most crafty leaders of the underworld were totally at a loss concerning the identity of The Shadow. They knew him only as a man in black — a tall, weird figure that came from nowhere, and vanished into the thickness of the night.

Fiends of lawlessness had faced The Shadow. They had listened to his awe-inspiring voice. They had heard the sibilant whispers of his hidden lips. But those who might have answered questions regarding The Shadow did not live to yield such information.

Cardona, himself, had seen The Shadow. He knew that the man of the dark was no myth. But no one at headquarters could support the star detective's word. Cardona had seen lives saved by The Shadow. He, himself, had escaped destruction, due to the intervention of this mighty man. On other occasions, Cardona had solved mysteries that were seemingly unfathomable, through the secret aid of The Shadow. But Cardona, not The Shadow, had received the credit. Only The Shadow had known the truth — and The Shadow had never told!

Millions of people had heard the voice of The Shadow — were hearing it even now. For, once a week, The Shadow broadcast over the radio on a national chain.

Often had mobsters sought to gain a clue to the identity of the mysterious announcer who spoke from the silence of a black-curtained room. But ever had they failed.

Men lurking at the very door of the inclosed compartment had heard the mocking tones of The Shadow's laugh; and had entered quickly, only to find the room a void.

These facts were known to Joe Cardona, but they had brought him nowhere. Now, his day's work ended, he was seated at his desk in headquarters, staring glumly at the wall. His theories were vanishing like early snowflakes.

The laugh that had echoed through the seance room — it could only have been the laugh of The Shadow!

The amazing disappearance of the thirteenth man — only The Shadow could have accomplished it!

Only one of two men might have killed Herbert Harvey. One was Professor Jacques, the medium — and he could not have done the crime. The other was The Shadow — and he would not have stooped to murder.

Cardona had investigated Herbert Harvey. He had discovered that the man had money and good social standing, although the was alone in New York.

It was possible that Harvey might have been a crook. But it was not the way of The Shadow to strike from the dark, with the knife.

This knowledge brought Cardona back to the impossible. The hand of a ghost — or the hand of Professor Jacques, the pretended ghost maker? Neither could be possible.

What was the meaning of the crime? Cardona had a gloomy sense of foreboding. He had seen mysterious murders before — murders that had led to new killings.

The detective had left the commissioner's office that morning in a spirit of elation. Now, his sense of triumph was gone. He saw defeat— perhaps disaster.

IT was in this time of gloominess that a startling hope dawned within Cardona's brain. The evolution of the inspiring thought came through a slow and unexplainable process. A chain of ideas led to its inception.

First, Cardona thought of the presence of The Shadow. That presence showed crime and great crime. A single murder would not merit The Shadow's attention. Others were in progress; and unless The Shadow could thwart them, they would become new and difficult crimes for Joe Cardona to solve. Whatever the outcome might be, the detective faced a hazard. He saw hopeless days ahead, with clues dwindling and opportunities fading.

For once, Cardona had won Commissioner Weston's complete confidence. If he faltered now, that confidence would be lost.

The Shadow had helped Cardona in the past. Would he help him now? Cardona had that hope; but he greatly feared that The Shadow's aid would come too late. Perhaps only after Weston had decided that his judgment of Cardona's ability had been mistaken.