Carpenter stopped short as he heard The Shadow’s low laugh. He realized that he was pleading with a man who was adamant. He was suggesting that a crook could catch crooks. What did The Shadow need of such aid? How could he help this superman?
“Your pleas are useless,” declared The Shadow. “You were the first to reach the end of your crime. Your punishment was mild — compared with that which the others shall suffer.”
There was an ominous tone in the words. They seemed like a voice of judgment. Herbert Carpenter shrank away and shuddered. All his bravado failed.
He sank back upon the desk. Softened, his thoughts returned to those who loved him.
“I’m through!” he gasped. “There’s no way out! Send me back to prison — back for ten years” — the words took on a bitterness — “back where I can do no more crime. I deserved what I got. I’ll take it. But I’d go to jail for life if I could make amends. I want to see those four where they belong.
“But that isn’t all” — his voice broke — “not all. My wife — my children — what have they done? Why should they pay for my crime? I’d give my life for them. Life in jail — in the electric chair — anything, to keep them from suffering!”
Strange silence predominated the room. Carpenter, half raising his head, still saw The Shadow, unyielding. He knew what his fate would be.
A summons to the police. They would come here, to find Herbert Carpenter, escaped Convict 9648, slumped helpless in the corner of a room.
The Shadow would be gone. He would depart as he had that other night. He would remain the unknown quantity that had brought Herbert Carpenter back into the clutches of the law.
Escape? An attempt would be hopeless. Well did Carpenter know the fate of those who had tried to elude The Shadow. There were two alternatives. Prison or death.