THE sinister man of the darkness held two automatics. One was pressed against Genara’s ribs. The other was pointed past Harry Vincent. It covered Anelmo, who was standing beside the torture chair, and as a hissing command came from The Shadow, the second Sicilian raised his hands in obedience.
The Shadow laughed — softly. The sibilant sound filled the room, and the stone walls seemed to laugh in return.
As the uncanny laughter died away, The Shadow spoke, and his words were weird and ominous.
“Against the wall,” he hissed. The automatic moved in his hand. Anelmo backed against the wall, and Genara was lined up beside him. The Shadow dropped one gun beneath his cloak.
Still covering the Sicilians with the single automatic, he reached forward with his free hand, and with a quick, swift movement, pulled away the iron rod that held the twisted rope behind Harry’s back. Then a knife came into view, and The Shadow cut the binding ties.
Harry arose, free. But weakness overcame him. He collapsed. The Shadow’s hand plucked him before he toppled to the stone floor.
Harry dropped into the torture chair, and lay there, limp and exhausted.
When he regained consciousness, he was amazed by what he saw. Genara and Anelmo were seated against the wall, each bound with ropes.
How The Shadow had accomplished it, Harry did not know. He imagined that the man in the black cloak had commanded one of the Homicide Twins to bind his companion.
But now The Shadow was speaking. He was addressing the helpless men who lay against the wall, and his words carried a note of warning.