The door swung open. A flood of light came through from the hall. The Shadow was upon the chair. His left arm clutched the edge of the skylight.
It was then that the injured arm failed. The Shadow dropped back into the room — just as three rescuers piled in!
One was a uniformed policeman. The second was a chance passer-by. The third was Throckmorton’s servant.
All had rushed directly to the body that lay within the range of light. They had not seen The Shadow as he stood poised upon the chair away from the door.
Crouched beside the chair, the man in black recovered from his unexpected fall. Now, with all eyes upon the lifeless body of James Throckmorton, he again sprang toward the skylight.
His right arm gripped the edge of the frame. It did the heavy effort. The skylight clattered.
The policeman looked in time to see the vague form poising for its upward leap. He made a dash to stop the escaping figure.
With right arm firmly holding to the edge of the open skylight, The Shadow swung his body forward like a catapult. His feet struck the policeman squarely in the chest.
The Shadow’s form recoiled from the blow it had delivered. Then the black-clad body wriggled upward through the skylight.
The staggering policeman was too late to stop The Shadow’s escape.