glowing in the large furnace room, where workers were present, using electric
drills upon chunks of hardened steel. Outside, the glimmer of flashlights told
that guards were patrolling the vicinity of the plant.
There were lights in another building. They came from windows on the second
floor and marked the offices of the steel company. There was a downstairs door,
where a guard stood on duty, chatting with a companion.
"The big guns is upstairs," informed the guard, in an undertone. "They
showed up half an hour ago."
"Listening to Harlin and Steve, are they?"
"Sure. The coroner's there with them. Harlin looked pretty shaky when he
went up."
"He ought to. Seeing them fellows get swallowed by that steel must have
been kind of tough to look at."
With this comment, the guard's friend started away. The guard called after
him:
"See if you can find Travers over by the furnace. Tell him it's time I was
off the trick. Have him send over some fellow from his own crew."
Three minutes passed, while the guard paced back and forth in front of the
dim light that came from the doorway. There was a stir in darkness close by. The
guard wheeled, with the query:
"Who's there?"
"Came over to relieve you," responded a gruff voice. "Mr. Travers sent me."
The guard did not see the speaker; but took it for granted that he was the
proper man. He grunted a good night and walked away from the door. It was not
until he had passed a corner that a figure stepped into the light.
That form was cloaked in black. The arrival was The Shadow. He had heard
the conversation; he had taken advantage of it. He had bluffed the guard into
believing that he was the man sent as relief watcher.
THE SHADOW did not linger at the doorway. He knew that Travers's man would
soon arrive. He wanted the new guard to think that the old one had simply gone
off duty because his time was up. The Shadow's own work lay elsewhere.
Entering the doorway, The Shadow took to a darkened flight of stairs. He
ascended and reached a hallway that showed a narrow shaft of light from a partly
opened door. Edging in from darkness, The Shadow saw the interior of an office.
Officials were gathered about a table. With these company men was another
whom The Shadow knew must be the coroner. Harlin was seated at the far end of
the table. The supervisor looked pale; his voice came brokenly as he spoke.
"That's the whole story!" declared Harlin. "Just as I saw it, gentlemen.
Nothing was wrong mechanically. The mistake was a human one; and those kind are
bound to happen."
"We have your full report on Joseph Grandy," returned the coroner,
fingering a sheaf of papers. "I regard it as thorough, Mr. Harlin. We can accept
the statements of the foreman and three laborers that Grandy was in full
possession of his faculties."
"The most reliable man in the plant," stated Harlin. "Always sober and
conscientious. A loyal fellow, too, old Joe was. He didn't know the slip he'd
made; if he had, he wouldn't have been the first to go."
The coroner drew a penciled diagram from the papers. It was a sketch made
