The bomb was on its way, hurtling through the air — to wreck the far end of the room, where Joe Cardona was trapped!
But though Cardona failed — though his doom seemed already here — another person acted. As Biscayne’s arm swung forward, a pistol shot cracked from the doorway.
The Shadow had fired.
Had he aimed for Biscayne, he could not have saved Cardona, for the assassin’s arm had made its fling. But The Shadow’s sterling aim was toward the object that Biscayne had hurled.
As the bomb left Biscayne’s grasp, The Shadow’s bullet shattered it!
A roar burst through the workshop. Tables, benches, cabinets — all were overturned. Bottles and glassware crashed everywhere. The place was shattered.
Joe Cardona, prone upon the floor, was half stunned by the terrific shock. But his end of the room had escaped the real force of the explosion.
The bomb had burst within three feet of the spot where Roger Biscayne had been standing!
Buried beneath the wreckage was Cardona’s enemy. Dead, perhaps; injured, certainly.
Cardona clambered to his feet. He pushed aside the debris. He found a motionless form. He dragged Roger Biscayne from the smoke-filled room.