Bob Maddox divided the sixth portion into four groups and handed them, one by one, to Moose Shargin, to deposit in the different suitcases.
Briggs watched with gleaming eyes. He was slowly calculating amounts. Eighty thousand dollars in each heap — twenty thousand from the dead man’s share — one hundred thousand dollars for each underling, and one hundred and eighty thousand for the Chief!
The suitcases were closed now. But one thought was in each mind — the getaway. Hiram Mallory motioned to the trapdoor. Bob Maddox placed his hand upon it. The old man turned out the flashlight as a precaution.
“Wait a minute,” exclaimed Moose Shargin, in a greedy tone. “Let’s look around some more — those corners—”
Before he could complete his statement, a ray of light swept into the room. The four men were blinded by the glare of a powerful electric torch. They held their positions as though petrified.
Instinctively, their hands rose above their heads. The light shone from a corner. In the fringe of its illumination, they could see that the tiny nook had been opened like a door.
They could not see the man behind the light; but a low, weird chuckle reached their ears — a chuckle that became a mirthless laugh which brought shudders to their quaking bodies.
“The Shadow!” gasped Hiram Mallory.
“You fools!” came a sinister voice. “Fools, to think that you could elude me! You thought that I did not know what you had learned — instead, I was waiting for you to find out what I already knew!
“The paper which you thought was a code, I recognized as a map the same night I saw it. I traced this building and found this place. How? By looking up at the building and observing this very spot — a windowless space.