CHAPTER XI

Reunion

Superman hovered above the whole vast city of New York for several moments, scanning both the ground and the horizon, as if he were searching for something.

"What . . . What is it?" Cranston rasped.

"I'm looking for the nearest hospital," Superman answered. "We need to get you to a doctor right away."

"No . . . hospital . . ." Cranston said with difficulty, "too . . . many . . . questions . . . for you . . . for me . . . for Margo. Go to . . . Margo's apartment."

"Are you sure? You need medical attention now!" Superman said urgently.

"Margo . . . knows what to do . . . She knows . . . doctor . . . who'll help . . . keep it quiet."

"But--"

Cranston gathered the last of his strength and spoke in his Shadow voice. "Do it!" Cranston ordered, in a tone so weird, so penetrating, that even the Last Son of Krypton had difficulty refusing. After a moment's consideration, however, Kal-El realized that Cranston was right. The sudden dramatic reappearance of Lamont Cranston in the company of Superman would provoke awkward questions among the police and the press that could compromise the secret identities of both men. The Man of Steel wheeled in the sky and returned the way he had come, setting the weakened Cranston down gently on the curb in front of the townhouse after first making sure the street was deserted.

Superman led Cranston up the steps to the front door and rapped urgently. Margo came to the door and gazed at her visitors in shocked, disbelieving astonishment.

"Special delivery," Superman quipped.

"Oh Lamont!" Margo exclaimed, "You're home! You've come back! Oh, darling, you've come back!" she cried, throwing her arms around him.

"Easy! Easy there, Miss Lane," Superman interjected. "He's been through quite an ordeal. Let's get him inside."

"Yes, of course, you're right," Margo said distractedly, "We can put him in the spare bedroom down the hall there," she added, pointing.

Superman and Margo Lane eased the battered Cranston down the hall and into bed and then gathered for an anxious, hushed conference in the living room. Superman briefly told her what had happened.

"I don't know how to thank you," Margo said tearfully to The Man of Steel. "You saved Lamont and brought him back to me."

"It's all right, Miss Lane. Knowing that Lamont is alive is thanks enough," Superman answered modestly. "I'm still worried about him, though. He needs medical attention, but he refused to go to the hospital and insisted I bring him here. He said you'd know what to do."

"Yes," Margo replied. "Lamont and I agreed that if anything like this ever happened, we'd call a friend of ours, Dr. Roland Adams. He's been a great help in the past. He doesn't know the truth about Lamont, but he has his suspicions. Nevertheless, he's very professional and . . . very discreet."

"Well, of course you're free to do as you think best, Miss Lane," Superman said reluctantly. Then as if truly noticing his surroundings for the first time, he suddenly asked, "Miss Lane, where's Lois?"

"Oh, Lois ran off to Dietrich's warehouse with Burke right after Clark Kent left. She said something about not letting Kent get an exclusive while she was around," Margo explained.

"Always the reporter, that Lois," Superman said with a brief chuckle. "I imagine she'll have quite a story when all this is said and done--but it's not over yet. If you'll excuse me, I still have to finish with Dietrich once and for all. Are you sure you'll be all right?"

"I'll be fine. And you be careful," Margo said firmly. She watched in astonishment as The Man of Steel rather unceremoniously vaulted out of her window and into the night. She was about to head for the telephone to call Dr. Adams when she heard a low moan from the spare bedroom. Lamont Cranston was awake.

"Shhh, now, darling, it's all right. You're safe now," Margo said soothingly.

"Margo, what's happened?" asked Lamont Cranston uncertainly.

"Everything's all right, darling. Superman rescued you from that awful Karl Dietrich. The law will deal with him soon enough," Margo replied. Then almost to herself, she added, "I just wish Uncle Renfield wasn't mixed up in all this."

At the mention of Renfield Lane's name, a curious expression, like a sudden flash of insight, passed across Lamont Cranston's face and was gone.

"Margo," he said gamely, "I am feeling a little bit better. Would you mind getting me a glass of water?"

"Of course not, dear. And while I'm gone, I'll telephone Dr. Adams. I'll be right back."

"Sounds like a good idea," said Lamont, as he eased his head back onto the pillow with a wan smile.

Margo left the room and quickly telephoned the doctor. She apologized for calling him at home so late in the evening and improvised a story about Lamont's being injured in a riding accident with one of his polo ponies. Adams sounded skeptical, as if he didn't fully believe Margo's explanation, but promised he would come over as soon as possible.

Margo then went to the kitchen, filled a glass with water from the tap, and marched purposefully back to the spare bedroom.

"Here's your water, Lamont. I called Dr. Adams and he--" she began.

Margo Lane stopped in the doorway of her spare bedroom and gaped with astonishment. The bedclothes were thrown back. The bed was empty. The window was open, and the curtains fluttered slightly in the night breeze. Lamont Cranston was gone.

End of Chapter XI