“Yeah, they’re going to get The Shadow,” came the low, distinct words. “You picked a bad night to get hopped up. The smoke wagons are going to boom tonight!
“The Shadow is after a guy named Homer Briggs — and Briggs came in here and spilled the news that he was hiding out under Glutz’s old hockshop.
“The Shadow’s due to crash into a mess of gats, believe me — and my rod’s going to be waiting for him!”
The man was gone, and Harry was staring dead ahead with startled eyes. He saw it all, now!
The Shadow had been tricked. The man in black was trailing Homer Briggs. Harry knew that all too well.
The news had spread throughout the bad lands, and the hordes of gangdom had marked The Shadow for the spot!
The Shadow must be warned!
With this startling thought, Harry almost forgot the part he was playing. He rose steadily; then realized his mistake.
He shifted back into his tottering, uncertain pace. Two weasel-faced individuals — pickpockets — grinned as he went by their table.
“He’s goin’ to help ‘em get The Shadow,” said one, with a raucous cackle.