Hence he remained an unnoticed sentinel at his post.
Keen eyes gazed from beside a hawklike nose. Thin lips remained
inflexible. A living statue, this personage watched the throngs so closely that
not a passing face escaped him.
Thirty-odd feet away, a square-shouldered man was pacing back and forth
near the same train gate. He was waiting for the barrier to be flung open,
hence he did not observe the hawk-faced watcher who was observing him as well
as the gate. Two sentinels: one's purpose concealed; the other's was apparent.
The tall observer who had rendered himself so inconspicuous was none other
than The Shadow. The square-shouldered man was a representative of the law:
Detective Joe Cardona from police headquarters.
Swarthy of visage, steady-faced in expression, Joe Cardona was a sleuth
who prided himself upon his keenness of observation. His confidence would have
experienced a drop had he known that The Shadow, attired in ordinary garb, was
within his view.
Had Cardona been thinking of those about him, he might have observed that
watching face with its sharp eyes and aquiline nose. But Cardona, on this late
afternoon, was concerned only with one purpose - the close observation of a
passenger who was expected on the arriving train.
The gate swung open. A flurry of persons began to come through the exit;
then came teeming crowds. A plainly dressed man, his face drooping and
discouraged, came along in the wake of the throng. Following him was a sturdy
stroller who glanced in Joe Cardona's direction. The waiting detective nodded.
He sauntered off on the first man's trail.
THE SHADOW, ever vigilant, had recognized the droop-faced arrival on the
instant. The man was the one whom The Shadow had seen in the cell at the
penitentiary - the one who had learned Ferris Legrand's secret. Slade Farrow,
alias Sam Fulwell, had arrived in New York.
Joe Cardona, as he started after the arrival, did not notice the
hawk-faced personage who also took up the trail. Together, the detective and
The Shadow were taking up the pursuit of one man. Joe Cardona was checking up
on an ex-convict whom he knew as Sam Fulwell. The Shadow was taking the path of
Slade Farrow.
The trio passed unnoticed amid the crowds that were spread beneath the
star-studded ceiling of the huge-domed concourse. Farrow was leading the way
toward the subway.
The express platform was crowded; nevertheless, Joe Cardona did not lose
sight of his man. Farrow took a downtown train. Cardona and The Shadow
followed. At Fourteenth Street, Farrow alighted.
As he followed the shambling ex-convict up the steps, Joe Cardona felt
that a hunch was working. The swarthy detective expected to trail his quarry to
the badlands. He was sure that Farrow was headed in that direction.
On the street, however, the jailbird pulled the unexpected. He stepped
directly into a taxicab, gave a growled order to the driver, and rolled away.
Cardona, close behind, duplicated the order. He leaped into a second cab,
flashed his badge to the driver, and pointed to the taxi ahead just as it was
jamming into traffic.
"Follow that cab!" ordered the detective.
