IT would be a great moment for Chief Yates now. Up there in the tower was a superman who had done superhuman work. He could not leave. For once The Shadow, the lone wolf who fought crime, was in the limelight.
Now, he would be forced to descend and reveal himself in person to the hordes who would be there to cheer him.
The thousands of witnesses understood. Eyes from everywhere were turned toward the tower, where the black form no longer moved, but seemed to be shrinking to obscurity.
The police on the end of the pier were cheering. The cry was being carried back. Its echoes rippled to the board walk, where thousands had gathered along the rail.
The shouts of human voices sounded above the roar of the breaking surf. Huge crowds had seen the doom of the escaping craft. They knew that justice had triumphed; although they — unlike Chief Yates — did not know the source of the bolt that had so unexpectedly fallen.
Now there was motion in that tower. The Shadow was rising, pointing his rifle upward from his lofty perch. His figure blotted out the seaward portion of the glittering ball of light. What was the meaning of this new action?
The answer came from above. The rifle spoke again. A rocket shot skyward! Then tiny lights twinkled high over the pier. They were descending. Into the range of illumination appeared a machine that came coasting downward with the gracefulness of a settling bird.
An autogyro!
Chief Yates recognized the strange craft. It had come to the Seaview City airport two days ago. With its huge horizontal windmill whirling above it, the queer plane seemed almost motionless in mid-air.
Its pilot was guiding it toward that lofty perch. The Shadow was standing there — on a projecting, equatorial platform that girded the globe of light.