“What’s that?” asked Moose.
“A fan,” explained Wing Toy. “An electric fan. It will clear the gas from the tunnel. Then we can enter.”
THE businesslike Chinaman studied a watch on his wrist, while the other men looked on curiously. After three minutes, Wing Toy turned the upper switch. The steel curtain rose.
All three moved forward to peer into the tunnel. At first it seemed empty; then the glare of Wing Toy’s flashlight revealed a huddled form in black, at the far end of the tunnel.
Moose Shargin paused gingerly on the threshold. Garry stood by, holding his automatic.
“Go in,” observed Wing Toy. “Do not worry. The gas cannot fail. The man is unconscious.”
Moose entered. He clutched the black cloak and found it loose upon the man’s shoulders. He lifted it, with the slouch hat that adorned the victim’s head. He turned and tossed the objects into the room, grinning in the light of Wing Toy’s flash.
“Is it The Shadow?” questioned the Chinaman calmly.
“It’s him, all right,” chuckled Moose. “I’ll drag him out. Stay there with your gat, Garry, just to be on the safe side. We can’t be too careful with this bird!”
He entered the tunnel as he spoke, and turned back to speak to Wing Toy. “Let’s have that light in here, so I can spot this guy’s mug.”