IT was clear to Sneaks now. Loy Rook’s instructions had come from some source unknown to Sneaks.
The crafty little gangster had been merely the decoy to lead the victims to their snares.
The first two rooms were arranged so that each prisoner would be overcome by some sleep-producing gas. But no chances were being taken with the final victim. The lethal gas pervading the last room had been planned to complete his doom.
Sneaks grinned in ugly fashion. He admired Loy Rook’s methods. The wise old Chinaman relied upon automatic mechanism, overpowering or murdering his enemies as he might prefer.
“The Shadow is dead!” mumbled Sneaks. “The Shadow is dead!”
It seemed too good to be true. The scourge of the underworld enmeshed at last! And Sneaks was eager to see the body of the victim. Like every hardened crook, he feared and hated the very name of The Shadow.
For years, now, gangsters had been seeking to kill the mysterious man who had created havoc in the bad lands. Now The Shadow’s time had come — and Sneaks Rubin had played his part in the affair!
Sneaks feared The Shadow any way but dead, and with reason. He had heard of criminals who had captured The Shadow, but who had failed to kill him. They had seen their quarry melt away, and they had not lived to give the details. Tonight, however, it was different. Loy Rook’s brain had outwitted the master mind!
“Let’s see him,” suggested Sneaks. “Let’s look at The Shadow—”
“In time,” smiled Loy Rook. “Let each have his turn. The living first; then the dead.”