Facial muscles had relaxed. Instead of a contorted face, The Shadow saw a craggy countenance – well-formed, but malicious in its natural expression. Straight lips were as evil as if they had formed a leer. The man was laughing from those lips.

The Shadow needed no introduction to this satanic foe who held him helpless.

He knew his captor to be Kenneth Malfort.

CHAPTER XVII – A CROOK PLAYS SAFE

MALFORT had drawn a revolver of his own. He was taking no chances with The Shadow. He nudged the weapon forward, a dangerous glare in his eyes. The Shadow raised his arms higher.

“Search him!”

Malfort purred the order to Wardlock. The secretary started to pocket his gun. Spark Ganza reached forward and took it from him. Spark, too, was wary. He was afraid that the prisoner would snatch the weapon from Wardlock’s pocket.

Wardlock frisked The Shadow. He turned to Malfort and gave a puzzled shrug.

“No gun on him,” stated Wardlock. “Maybe -”

The secretary paused; but The Shadow understood. It was puzzling to find The Shadow gunless, even though his mission here had been a peaceful one. Perhaps crooks should have known from The Shadow’s failure to resist that he was weaponless; nevertheless, the situation went against what they had expected.

Even Malfort showed doubt. That fact pleased The Shadow. He knew that bluff would be his only course. He had gained a good start.

“Bind him!” ordered Malfort. “You, Wardlock; and Ku-Nuan.”

Reluctantly, Ku-Nuan put his knife away. He and Wardlock went for ropes. They returned and thrust The Shadow to the couch. There, they began to tie his wrists behind him. For a moment, The Shadow offered resistance; but curbed it quickly. The knots tightened into a double binding.

Wardlock added other knots, while Ku-Nuan held a rope ready. The secretary took the rope; stepped toward The Shadow’s feet, while Ku-Nuan set his teeth into the knots that bound The Shadow’s wrists. The Mongol had his own method of adding to the tightness of the bonds.

The Shadow rolled as Wardlock wrapped the rope about his ankles. His feet crossed; the secretary tied them as they were. Ku-Nuan arrived to bite the knots and tug them. The two henchmen rolled The Shadow on his back.

Approaching, the master crook faced The Shadow. He eyed the visage of Arnaud; then spoke to Ku-Nuan.

“This was the man?” queried Malfort. “The one who fought with you at the Royal Arms?”

Ku-Nuan nodded promptly.

“And on the roof of the Maribar Hotel?” questioned Malfort. “And at the trap last night?”

Ku-Nuan stared but made no immediate remark.

“Take a good gander at him,” put in Spark. “We want to know whether this mug is The Shadow, or some stooge. Look him over right, Ku-Nuan.”

THE Mongol shook his head as he turned to Malfort. The gesture indicated that he could not positively identify the prisoner as The Shadow.

Malfort showed an ugly grimace. He stepped toward The Shadow.

“There is no need to make you talk,” sneered Malfort. “That would prove nothing within the short time that I have to question you. Whoever you are – whether The Shadow or some one who serves him – you have worked against me. Therefore, you shall pay the penalty!

“You came here, thinking to find Tobias Helmedge. It may interest you to know that he is dead – slain weeks ago, before either Blessingdale or Hessup. I had been informed of Helmedge, through my correspondents in China.”

Pausing, Malfort gestured upward with his thumb.

“Helmedge had dismissed his old servant,” he stated, “in order to live more cheaply. For years, he had kept the second floor closed off, as a form of economy. After Helmedge died” – Malfort’s tone showed irony – “I became his heir. I occupied the second floor and modernized it. We enter it by the back door.

“I might mention that a large door blocks the stairway at the second floor. Today, when I considered it wise to trap you, I sent for Helmedge’s old servant, Rennig. He came here; he thinks that I am Helmedge. That is why he helped to deceive you.”

Pondering, Malfort eyed his prisoner.

“If you are The Shadow,” purred the supercrook, “you can not disturb my plans tonight. If you are not The Shadow, I have an idea that he will prove to be Lamont Cranston. Of course, there is the possibility that you intended to masquerade as Cranston, using the same face that you showed when you called yourself Furbish.

“In that event, Lamont Cranston will not appear at the Maribar Hotel tonight. If he does appear, it will be positive that you and he are not the same. There are many answers to the riddle; I prefer to learn for myself. It affords more zest, particularly when the cards are stacked entirely in my favor.” Malfort drew a watch from his pocket, studied the time, and turned to Wardlock.

“I shall reach the Maribar in thirty minutes,” he stated. “If there is any new development, call the desk and ask for me at that time. I shall remain in the lobby a short while before I go up to the penthouse.”

Turning to Spark and Ku-Nuan, Malfort added:

“Watch the prisoner, both of you. If he makes one false move, you can use him for a match of skill. I would be interested to know which weapon could deliver the swiftest death: your revolver, Spark; or your knife, Ku-Nuan.”

To The Shadow, Malfort added, “You will remain a prisoner only until my other affairs are settled. I shall deal with Rowden; with Cranston also, if he proves foolish enough to visit the penthouse. Perhaps I already hold The Shadow; possibly, I have still to find him. But you will die when I return.”

WITH this cold statement, Malfort strolled toward the door. Wardlock followed him; The Shadow heard the secretary put a question. Wardlock was asking about Rennig. Malfort thought a moment, then said:

“Come upstairs with me. I shall introduce you to Rennig as my secretary. Stay on the first floor with him. I do not want him to see either Spark or Ku-Nuan. Rennig will be good for an alibi later; he will swear that he saw Tobias Helmedge alive tonight.

“If either Spark or Ku-Nuan need to speak to you, Wardlock, they can meet you at the top of the stairs, on the ground floor. You hear that?” Malfort swung to Spark and Ku-Nuan. “Keep in contact with Wardlock, on the ground floor.”

Henchmen nodded. Wardlock added a question:

“What if I have to call you by telephone?”

“Send Rennig to the kitchen,” replied Malfort. “Then you can go to the second floor. Remember, though, the call must come exactly half an hour after I leave. I want no calls after I reach the penthouse.”

“I shall only be there a short while.” Malfort looked toward The Shadow as he spoke. “It will not take long to deal with Major Rowden; nor with this chap Cranston, if he chances to arrive.”

At the door, Malfort paused to don the wig that he had pocketed. He hunched his body, screwed his face into the contorted visage of the dead Tobias Helmedge. In the old man’s voice, he snapped the order:

“Come with me, Mr. Wardlock.”

CREAKY footsteps on the stairs marked Malfort’s departure. Wardlock’s tread was noiseless. The Shadow leaned back against the wall; the flare of the gaslight showed his face to be expressionless. Silent, he intended to continue his part of Arnaud.

Spark Ganza and Ku-Nuan glared at the poker-faced prisoner. Had they been sure their captive was The Shadow, they would have followed Malfort’s emergency instructions and dealt immediate death. But where their chief had been uncertain, they were necessarily the same.

Helpless, with cutting cords about his wrists and ankles, The Shadow seemed in absolute plight. Yet, all the while, his keen brain held a plan.