Knowing that an attack would be useless, Harry crept along the side of the house, determined to prevent the escape of the enemy before the arrival of The Shadow. He was grimly determined to do his utmost, despite the painfulness of his wound.
Reaching the back of the house, Harry laid low. Then, gazing out toward the landing field, he saw the four men appear from the other side of the lodge.
Benson and the Filipino were being rushed to safety by their rescuers. Raising his right hand, Harry fired. He saw the handcuffed Filipino stumble and fall.
Harry fired again. Mayo turned and shot at the corner of the house. A bullet whistled by Harry's head. Fleming was helping Louie on toward the plane. Mayo was Harry's target now.
The millionaire seemed to possess a charm against bullets. Every shot that Harry fired went wide. Mayo's bullets were nicking the corner of the house, too close for safety.
Harry dropped flat and waited. Mayo turned and hurried toward the plane. Harry pointed his gun and coolly pressed the trigger. The calculated aim proved to be of no avail. The gun was empty!
There was no chance now to stop the fleeing men. They had reached the plane. Fleming was helping Benson and Louie into the cabin from the other side. Sherwood Mayo had reached the safety spot. Desperately, Harry tried to reload his gun; but his left arm was numb and helpless. While he attempted his painful task, he heard the roar of the airplane motor. The big propeller was whirling, and the ship was moving along the ground, away from the house.
It took off in the glare of the searchlight, carrying its passengers away from the danger spot. Harry chided himself for his inability to prevent the escape. The return of The Shadow would be useless, now!
In the cabin of the fleeing plane, Sherwood Mayo was examining the wound that Louie had received. Harry's shot had clipped the man's hip.
The plane was high above the ground, rising away from Greenhurst. It swerved suddenly; Mayo, glancing from the window of the cabin, saw the cause.