Kings Of Crime

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A WEIRD, mellow light pervaded the somber, black-walled room. The glow had a purplish tinge, and its strange rays centered themselves in a single corner, where they reflected the shining surface of a polished tabletop.

All was silent in that room. It bore the semblance of a chamber of death; and most mysterious of all was the spectral figure that sat before the table. Clothed in a cloak of jet-black hue, with visage obscured by the broad brim of a black slouch hat, this personage possessed the eerie quality of an apparition.

The Shadow was in his sanctum!

A ghostly being, shrouded by darkness, he awaited a message from some outside source. The very walls of the room in which The Shadow dwelt seemed to melt away into nothingness.

Somewhere in New York — in this amazing spot that was known to himself alone — The Shadow was formulating a plan to thwart the plots of evildoers.

A light glowed across the table. Its sudden appearance brought a strange response from the being garbed in black. A creepy sound shuddered through that secret room — a sound that formed itself into a mocking laugh, uttered by unseen lips.

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