Few dared to risk a conflict, but there were those of the underworld who, by practiced caution, were not afraid to continue a stealthy search for the man who had eluded them.
The Shadow, it was said, would probably be headed away from the danger zone.
Watching gangsters lurked about decaying buildings. Each hoped that he might catch a glimpse of the mysterious man in black.
It was the safety of numbers that so inspired them. With remnants of gangdom’s horde at large, each searcher was keyed to his task.
Each man knew that if he should fire a warning shot others would come to his aid. All were willing to risk an encounter with the police, since The Shadow was the stake in the desperate game.
But they reckoned without their foe. The Shadow had not fled. He had simply retreated in the face of massed numbers.
With The Shadow, an attack was the best defense. But he chose his own ground for the onslaught.
Creeping along the housetops, swinging himself miraculously across wide spaces, The Shadow was grimly seeking a suitable spot from which to begin his next operation.
A full block from the old pawnshop stood a crumbling building that had a small courtyard in back. This spot was reached through a narrow cranny between two projecting walls.
Here, two toughened gunmen had sought a breathing space. Sheltered below the two-story building, they were planning secret action.