Clipper gripped the victim’s waist for the final effort. As his hands lifted upward, a revolver shot sounded from the doorway. Clipper staggered back, his left shoulder limp. The body of Cliff Marsland slumped downward against the wall, the head resting on the window sill. The timely shot had saved him from a horrible death!
A MAN clad in black was standing in the doorway, a smoking automatic in his gloved hand. His expert shot had picked the one spot on Clipper’s body that could have been struck without danger to Cliff Marsland. Clipper dropped to the floor, his automatic dangling in his right hand. He managed to turn his head.
“The Shadow!” he whispered.
He had recognized the avenger of the underworld. The tall man with the turned-up cloak and the wide-brimmed slouch hat concealing his face was indeed the strange being of whom Clipper Tobin had often heard. And now he had met The Shadow!
Clipper’s bulging eyes noted the body of Arnold Bodine. The form of Cliff Marsland was beside him. He had killed one. He was not to be cheated of the other!
With a snarl, he seized Cliff’s body and twisted himself behind it. He pulled Cliff’s loaded automatic from his pocket and pointed it toward the door and fired.
His first shot, a hasty one, was wild. The second was well aimed, but the bullet never left the muzzle.
Once again The Shadow’s marksmanship prevailed.
He had chosen the automatic in Clipper’s hand as his target, and his shot proved true. The gun fell from Clipper’s stunned claw. The killer was helpless.
Even then Clipper Tobin would not yield. The shrill sound of a police whistle came to his ears. He was defeated in conflict, and captors were approaching. Still, he was determined at least to elude The Shadow.