His shots ended as he plunged headforemost along the floor, his revolver flying out ahead of him.
Cool and cunning, The Shadow had outguessed his antagonists. There remained but one more — the plainclothes man at the outer door.
He, too, was playing into the hands of The Shadow. Knowing that the door of the inner room must be passed before the outer door was reached, the detective rushed to reinforce his comrades.
As he came to the door of the inner room, he stopped short and peered into the darkness. His leveled automatic was in his hand.
An arm swept downward from the wall beside him. There was a sharp clash as The Shadow’s automatic struck the gun from the man’s hand.
Before he realized that he was disarmed, the man at the door was caught in that powerful clutch. A forearm jolted against the back of his neck.
His body turned a sudden somersault, and he struck the floor flat on his back.
A tall, black form stood silhouetted in the doorway. A low, jibing laugh came from unseen lips.
As Mayhew, groping on hands and knees in the darkness, found the patrolman’s revolver, the man in the doorway seemed to fall away into the outer room. He was gone before Mayhew’s shots could take effect.
The detective sergeant started in pursuit. The others, recovering from their daze, were seeking their weapons. They were too late to be of any use.