Shadow, the Mysterious Detective/Chapter 25

or woman?

I looked at the individual who was seated opposite to McGinnis, and asked myself this question.

The glance of those eyes had assured me that Daisy was Shadow.

But was Shadow man or woman?

Man I certainly believed him, and yet—well, I was dumfounded if ever man was.

That swelling bust might be a work of art, but it seemed to me that it arose and fell too naturally to be anything but genuine.

True, I had had ample evidence of Shadow's ability in the art of disguise, yet still I could hardly believe this to be all making up.

Shadow saw that my eyes were upon him (or her), and also that I had recognized him.

McGinnis had been so plied with drink by Shadow, that he was too drunk to notice or understand the significance of a motion of the mysterious detective's hand.

Yet it said to me as plainly as words could have done:

"Be circumspect. Be careful. Do not betray me. Go away, and leave me to alone work out the scheme I have laid."

I obeyed.

I turned on my heel and left the place. As I was about to pass through the door I glanced back.

McGinnis was becoming very affectionate, and was winding his arm about Daisy's waist.

Since Daisy was Shadow we shall not mystify the reader, but simply speak of him by the name to which we are accustomed.

"Say yes, Daisy, won't you?" said McGinnis, with a slobber which he meant for a kiss.

An expression of intense disgust on the other's face was not noticed by the drunken villain.

"I'll think over it," was the reply. "But there's one thing, McGinnis, which I want you to understand, that I won't take up with a slouch."

"I ain't no slouch," protested McGinnis. "Why, I've——" and then started again, he began recounting his exploits in a boastful tone.

Shadow listened, his ears drinking in the other's words with an avidity equal to that of the leech, as it sucks the blood of the victim to which it has fastened.

The detective heard partially what he wished to hear, and his eyes began to gleam with a red and dangerous light.

Deftly, and with a purpose, he now and then interpolated a word to direct McGinnis' mind into other channels, and at last the end toward which he had aimed was gained.

Out of his own mouth McGinnis had convicted himself.

Distinctly, unequivocally, he had fastened on himself a terrible crime—a crime which it was Shadow's sworn purpose to avenge.

"Thank Heaven!"

So earnestly did Shadow utter this exclamation that it fixed the attention of McGinnis, stupid with drink as he was.

Shadow saw it, and hastened to remove the impression made on the mind of the villain.

"Let's have another drink," said McGinnis, as soon as his mind was again at ease.

"You've had enough," said Shadow.

"I want another drink," growled McGinnis, now in his ugly state of intoxication.

"No," was the decided rejoinder.

McGinnis clenched his fist and brought it forcibly down on the table.

He swore that he was not going to be dictated to by a woman.

"Very well," said Shadow, coolly. "You were the one who was anxious for a partnership. It wasn't me. If you drink another drop I'll bust up the whole arrangement."

Muttering under his breath that he would tame her when the time came, he nevertheless did not order the drink.

For Shadow's purpose McGinnis was now drunk enough.

"Come, let's get out of this," at last remarked Shadow.

"All right, Daisy," hiccoughed McGinnis. "Goin' home with me, ain't ye?" with a leer.

"Yes."

"Bully for you. You're a gal of the right stripe. Sail ahead—give us a wing, though, for I'm kind o' unstiddy on my pins. An' I say, you must be well seasoned, 'cause you don't show the effects of this bout's much as I do."

"I've drank many a stout lad under the table," was the laughing reply, and McGinnis looked at his Daisy more admiringly than before.

Too drunk to know even where he was going, Shadow found no trouble in leading the villain whither he wished, since McGinnis now trusted him completely.

"What a mash!" McGinnis kept muttering to himself, and every time they passed under a street-lamp he insisted on having another look at his darling Daisy's face.

"What's zish?" he finally asked, reeling unsteadily and glancing around. "What's zish? Where'sh the house? Zish is a dock!"

Shadow had led him to a lonely and deserted pier on the east side of town.

Click!

Click!

It was a pair of handcuffs that produced this clicking, as they were snapped on McGinnis' wrists.

Realizing what had been done, and nearly sobered by the shock of surprise, McGinnis started back, and, raising his hands quickly, tried to bring the handcuffs down on Shadow's head.

Shadow started back in time to save himself.

Then McGinnis made an attempt to fly.

Shadow was too quick for him.

In less than a second he had drawn and cocked a revolver, and with one spring reaching McGinnis' side, he planted the muzzle against the villain's temple.

"Be quiet, unless you wish to die instantly!" Shadow sternly said, and the villain paused and stood trembling like a leaf.

McGinnis' head was more sobered than his body, and when Shadow suddenly tripped him, his feet flew out from under him, and down he heavily went.

Shadow seemed working in a systematic way, seemed to have planned everything exactly as it happened, for when he sprang on the fallen villain he held a gag in his hand.

At the revolver's muzzle McGinnis yielded, and permitted the gag to be placed in his mouth.

Shadow next fastened his feet, and when the villain was perfectly helpless the detective coolly sat down on the string-piece, to wait until the liquor's effect had passed more away.

McGinnis' fear tended to sobering him quickly, and just as a distant church-clock was striking ten, Shadow arose and then knelt beside the villain, at whom he gazed with a fixed look that indicated unalterable purpose.

"McGinnis, your time is short," the mysterious detective sternly said. "Make your peace with Heaven if you can. In three minutes you die!"

There was no mistaking the tone in which these words were said.

McGinnis was by this time sober enough to understand the full import of the words, and he began to writhe, and strain, and try to burst his bonds.

The wisdom of Shadow's gagging him was now apparent, for had he been free to do so, the villain would have bawled and shrieked like a madman.

"I abhor a murderer, and I shudder at thoughts of murder," Shadow went coldly on. "But I stifle all such feelings for the sake of avenging in a fitting manner the death of one who was more than all the world to me, whom you robbed of life. Now you know why this terrible fate has overtaken you."

It was a fearful sight, that of this man struggling with such fierce intensity to burst his bonds, to free his hands, to save his life.

Like the Nemesis he was, Shadow remained kneeling beside McGinnis, and in calm, cold voice, counted the expiring seconds.

"The three minutes are gone," he finally said, in a tone that was harsh but unwavering, and then——

"Avenged!" muttered Shadow, as he glided away from the spot a few minutes later. "Tom, I have kept my oath! Darling Tom, the same fate that was meted out to you, I have meted out to your murderer!"

Just as the clock struck eleven, and I was preparing for bed, a note was brought to me.