Four men dashed from the alleyway. Macklin counted them as they turned down the street. He could not tell them apart in the darkness; but he knew they were his four men — two true, and two double-crossers.
Macklin waited. He could seek vengeance on the Chicago men later. Now he had a score to settle with The Shadow.
A POLICE siren sounded from the head of the street. It could not have arrived so quickly if the shots had brought it. Something must have happened in that house.
The answer flashed through Macklin’s brain. The Shadow had overpowered Louie Seligman at work and had called up the police. Then he had mocked the men in the alley, laughing at them from the room within the building.
The shots had been fired through the window by Goldman and Brill, but they had been foolish, wasted shots.
The approach of the patrol only served to encourage. Macklin. He felt sure The Shadow would come out before the police arrived.
Here, in the darkness, he felt safe for the moment. Still, he would leave nothing to chance. He slipped the car into gear and placed his foot on the starter.
He saw a shadow across the street. It seemed to grow from the sidewalk in front of the alley. It was taking on a human shape, moving toward the building away from the Hoetzel house.
The patrol was coming closer.
Gunner Macklin started his car. It rolled from the parking space, and he shot it into high gear. He steered with his left hand, bearing directly toward the spot where he could still see the moving shadow. The front wheel grazed the curb on the opposite side of the street.