The policeman was viewing the body of the slain crook. There was blood upon the sidewalk where Homer lay.
There was a tiny drop of blood a foot toward the curb; another beyond it.
This meant nothing to the policeman, for he thought it had come from the wounds of the dead man.
But those drops of blood were the beginning of a trail. They were a trail which wild hordes of gangsters would have followed in exultation, had they seen the drops and had they known what they meant.
The Shadow had been wounded. Gliding through the darkness, he was leaving a traceable path behind him!
But no one knew of that trail. Onward, forgetful of the clips he had received from gangsters’ bullets, The Shadow swept toward a new destination.
Homer Briggs had spoken. What the man had known, The Shadow knew now!
CHAPTER XIV
THE SHADOW SEEKS
EVENTS had moved swiftly that night. It was not yet ten o’clock. Homer Briggs had visited the Black Ship shortly after dark. Gangland’s vigil had begun at an early hour.