One man gasped and slumped to the bottom of the boat. The second succumbed to another bullet. Chugging onward, the motor boat continued, swerving crazily, with no hand at its wheel.
The shots had aroused cries from other boats anchored in the distance. Lights were gleaming. The long rays of searchlights were being focused on the Sepia.
Dimly, from the distance, these rays revealed the figures sprawled upon the deck. But they did not show the form of The Shadow.
The master of the night had returned to the night. A little motor boat was picking its elusive way back across the bay toward San Francisco.
That boat was guided by the hand of The Shadow!
CHAPTER XXIII
CLEVE GETS CREDIT
RIDING eastward on the Mountain Limited, Cleve Branch was reading the accounts of the great dope ring and its exposure. All the news was there. His name was emblazoned in screaming headlines.
For Cleve Branch had played a part, after all. Recovering his senses in the hospital, he had answered questions relating to the Bureau of Investigation badge that had been found beneath his coat. Then he had lapsed back into unconsciousness.
Another agent had been summoned. At the police station, he had learned of Cleve’s mumbled words. He had started for the bay, there to find the Pung-Shoon, a smoldering derelict.