SO silent was the shop； that the swish of The Shadow's cloak was audible as he passed through to the front door； which opened on another street； closer to the Imperial Hotel。
Closed for the night； the shop was made to order for The Shadow's purposes； for its interior was pitch…black； but with no obstructions to delay a person passing through it。
Evidently The Shadow knew that such would be the case； for he did not use his flashlight。 Reaching the front door； he found it as expected。 It wasn't bolted； it simply had a heavy burglar…proof latch； which enabled The Shadow to step out and leave the door as he had found it； by simply closing it behind him。
Even outdoors； The Shadow found his favorite habitat： darkness。 The door of the shop was under a projecting balcony； which entirely cut off the glow of the old…fashioned street lamps so prevalent in Libertad。
Keeping to the shelter of balconies； crossing the street at places where the lights were feeble； The Shadow glided past a corner and came upon the Plaza del Libertador； opposite the Imperial Hotel。 There he paused within the last fringe of darkness。
It was a fiesta night in Libertad which accounted for the shops being closed。 The populace had deserted the narrow streets for open spaces such as the great plaza； and the scene was one of life and gaiety。
But The Shadow wasn't interested in the costumery of the merrymakers； who were enjoying pleasures that would cease when the iron hand of Castenago tightened。 He sympathized with them profoundly； and wished that their era of carefree revelry would long continue。
That； in itself； was reason why The Shadow's attention should be centered elsewhere。 Upon what he learned tonight； would hinge his whole campaign toward ending the tyranny of Luis Castenago。
The Shadow looked across the street to the front of the hotel。 He saw the ancient taxicab that he had hired as Allard。 It was the center of much speculation； voiced in voluble Spanish； by hotel employees； police； and even soldiers； all picturesque in their assorted uniforms。
Cabs didn't often roll up to the Imperial Hotel without passengers inside them； unless they had been ordered。 This cab should have had a passenger； the driver was describing him and swearing by the sacred volcano of Lotomoro that he had brought the man in question from the Casino Internacional。
A serious offense on the part of the missing passenger； could the cab driver prove that he really had one； for the Castenago regime was very strict on such matters。
Nevertheless； the chance arrival of an empty cab did not account for all the police and soldiers。 The Shadow laughed softly as he looked up and saw the real reason。
A light blinked off from an upstairs window； the very room which The Shadow occupied as Kent Allard。 The police and military had been finishing the search ordered by Castenago； when the cab arrived。
The last of the searchers came downstairs。 They were a pair of Castenago's sinister gatomontes。 The men in fancier uniforms began reporting to them。 The case had reached the proper hands to bring official results。 The Shadow let his gaze range his own side of the street； and saw what he expected。
A car； parked in the darkness； was getting into motion； its lights dimmed。
It was ing right past The Shadow； the very car that had followed the cab from the casino。
IN swinging the corner； the cab had to pass beneath a street light； so The Shadow watched it closely。 He knew that it wouldn't contain gatomontes； because there had been none of them around the casino。 He was sure that this car was manned by irregulars； in the service of Castenago。 Having lured them into the light； The Shadow wanted to identify them。
A sharp glitter came from the cab。 It was the muzzle of a machine gun； trained directly toward The Shadow； but it didn't begin to mouth deadly flame。
The men behind the rapid…fire weapon failed to see The Shadow in his nest of gloom； even though they were leaning from their car； intent on searching every inch of the route back to the casino。 All they did was put their own faces on display for The Shadow's eaglelike scrutiny。
The Shadow recognized those faces。 He had seen them before。 Leader of the murderous roving band was Murk Wessel； the men with him were the sharpshooting lieutenants who had aided in the wiping out of Jose Durez and his panions from Centralba！
There was a whispered laugh when the cab had passed； then The Shadow； too； was gone； sidling uncannily through the darkness。 The tone of The Shadow's mirth did not betoken a discovery。 It merely announced the proof of a well…held theory。
While the New York police were tracking down the planted rumors that Murk Wessel and his band of killers were somewhere in Manhattan； The Shadow had unearthed that notorious crowd in the one refuge where no one else had thought to look for them。
Only The Shadow could have analyzed the truth： that Murk Wessel had not operated on his own； but was secretly in the employ of Luis Castenago！
CHAPTER XI
FRIENDS OF THE SHADOW
NATIVES were dancing in the esplanade of National University when The Shadow arrived there。 There were students among the crowd； and they were amusing themselves in various ways。
Some were tossing pennies to the stolid marimba player； who still kept up his musical beats outside the patio entrance to Professor Peridor's mansion。
Others were engaged in catching fireflies； of the amazing red…and…green variety seen in the tropics。 The insects looked like flying traffic lights； and they stayed at an appropriate altitude； which made them difficult to trap。
Whenever snared； they immediately bee adornments for high bs worn by the promenading senoritas； wherein they shone like decorative jewels。
The briskness of the firefly hunt forced The Shadow to travel close to Peridor's wall in order to avoid the roaming students。 They avoided the wall as if it were charged with electricity； because they knew the ways of the patrolling soldiers。 Castenago's militia was trained to shoot at sight； should anyone violate a taboo。
As The Shadow kept to the wall's sheltering gloom； he heard rifles crackle； at intervals； followed by an immediate scattering of students and a fluttery flight of pigeons from the esplanade。
Fortunately； the soldiers were indifferent marksmen。 Students and pigeons promptly returned to their respective tasks…the students plucking fireflies for the senoritas who； meanwhile； were feeding almonds to the pigeons。
Around the corner of the wall； The Shadow saw a uniformed man approach against the light from the esplanade。 Blended with the tan stucco background； The Shadow awaited the soldier's arrival。 Scouting students dashed close； saw the uniform； and scudded away as the soldier raised his rifle。
With a long stretch； The Shadow reached the top of the wall and lifted himself by his very fingertips。 His soft…toed shoes dug into the stucco； and he was rolling across the wall top when the soldier resumed patrol。
The patio resembled a sunken garden； being several feet deeper than the ground outside。 Clumps of shrubbery might prove the lurking spots of inside guards posted by Castenago； so The Shadow decided to choose the spot where he dropped。
There were trees inside the wall； and one； a coconut palm； sprouted from the midst of flowery tropical bushes。 It looked like a good landing spot； so The Shadow flicked the pencil beam of his tiny flashlight toward it。
Instantly； crouched figures came to life。 They could only be gatomontes； for no other uniforms would have blended so well with the shrubbery。 Their silence told that they were ready to shoot； once sure where the prowler with the flashlight was located。
The Shadow was quite sure that the gatomontes were excellent marksmen with revolvers。 Shifting along the wall； he reached for the thick…sprayed foliage of the palm tree。
Voices hissed below。 The gatomontes were preparing to rake the wall with their fire。 Even if The Shadow beat them to the shots； it wouldn't help。 The sound of any gun within the patio would bring a score of guards； with powerful flashlights。 So The Shadow flicked his own flashlight； instead。
However； its beam was no longer white。 This was the special flashlight which he often used in signaling his agents。 Its glow could be adjusted to red or green； and The Shadow used both。
The well…timed flickers were a perfect representation of the local firefly。 Hovering between palms and wall； the blinks provided actual illumination。 Like tiny beacons from the blackness； they guided the lurkers； giving them opportunity to work along the wall without using their own flashlights。
They were evidently pleased that such a magnificent firefly should have drifted by at such a moment。 But the 〃firefly〃 was skittish。 It suddenly floated toward the wall； gave quick； parting flashes and disappeared。
It was gone beneath The Shadow's cloak； and the men below were suddenly curious regarding the firefly's gyrations。
EASING toward the branches of the palm； The Shadow tilted his head at an angle and counted coconuts against the re