No. That would be hopeless. Too many explanations would be necessary. Cliff groaned as he realized that he was a burden on The Shadow. He knew that fact as he tried to climb to his feet, and sank back weakly.
The Shadow could escape, even if he had to fight his way through the minions of the law. But he would not desert his associate.
Leaning against the wall, Cliff watched The Shadow. The mysterious man seemed purposeless, as he strolled about the room. At last, he stopped by the wall in a front corner of the room, and tapped softly.
Cliff could hear a laugh from the man in black.
There was terrific pounding from outside. The blows of a sledge hammer resounded against the corridor door. Wood was splintered. Triumphant shouts followed. The police were breaking in!
The Shadow opened the door of a closet near the corner where he had tapped. He entered. Cliff could see his arm moving up and down.
Now the man in black was across the room again, his hands upon the body of Arnold Bodine. Cliff saw the flash of metal as The Shadow brought forth a key ring from the dead man’s pocket. Once more The Shadow was back in the closet. He emerged and swept toward Cliff. Clutching the black arm that was offered him, Cliff gained his feet.
Crash! Cliff heard the thud as the splintered door gave way. The Shadow was in the closet, drawing him along. He could hear the shouts of orders from the men who were entering the room.
The closet door closed. The powerful clutch of The Shadow was beneath Cliff’s arms. He was thrust toward the side of the closet. He felt himself descending through the floor.
Clutching, he caught the rungs of an iron ladder; he gained a foothold, and let himself down a step.