He was entering the heart of the trap, but he was arriving unseen!
Foot by foot, he made the precarious descent. He reached the bottom. He again crouched low as he removed the suction cups that had served him well. They went beneath the cloak — round black disks that fitted in a special holder.
Now, working with consummate care, The Shadow toyed with the lock. It was a formidable obstacle, yet his efforts were noiseless.
His body scarcely moved, as it covered the black-clad hands. Even had it swayed in that darkness, it could not have been seen by the waiting men stationed in the street.
The Shadow took no unnecessary chances. Daring though he was, he risked only what was demanded.
The lock yielded; but The Shadow was cautious as he opened the door. A single ray of light, coming from within that barrier, would have meant betrayal.
There was no light beyond the door. The Shadow edged his way into darkness and let the door close noiselessly behind him.
He was standing on stone steps that led downward, but his descending feet made no sound.
THE SHADOW came to a closed door. It was the only door here. Behind that door was the hiding man — Homer Briggs.
Presumably, he was alone; and The Shadow had business with him tonight. But The Shadow had divined the nature of this hunted creature.