Two shots roared as The Shadow spotted the men who had fired. Aiming for the flashes of flame, The Shadow’s marksmanship was true. The offending gunmen fired no more. Gifford Morton plunged through the door to safety.
But in the swift deeds that had saved Morton from certain death, The Shadow had revealed his own position. An alert gangster, seeing a flash from a corner near the window, called out the news to his fellows.
“Watch him — watch him — over past the window! Don’t let him get away!”
Men were moving through the gloom. A crafty shift of positions was taking place. Not one of the gunmen dared to fire; for to do so would make him The Shadow’s target. At the same time, all guns were in readiness. Another shot from The Shadow was all that they required!
Sullen whispers sounded as the gangsters edged their way toward the outer door, keeping from the range of light. There lay the vantage point from which they could loose a mass attack. They had trapped The Shadow — to kill him was their sole objective.
A sinister laugh sounded in the gloom. The laugh of The Shadow — gloating — mocking! Those strange, jeering tones brought fear and indecision to the stealthy gangsters. They could not locate the direction of the sound.
The meaning of the sardonic mirth was unknown. Why had The Shadow laughed?
Little did these sneaking mobsmen realize that they were playing into the hands of The Shadow! Each with the same objective — all were traveling to the one spot of retreat, that outer door.
Muffled snarls emerged from evil lips. Still retreating, these fiends felt themselves under the spell of the avenger who had outwitted them. Trappers, they were trapped. Despite their ignorance of The Shadow’s plan, they hesitated as they neared the fatal door.
Again, a change of events brought a new and startling situation. Minutes had passed since The Shadow had arrived; now came the climax for which he had been holding his enemies in abeyance. The sound of voices came from the corridor. The police had arrived!