Some one stepped in the path of the escaping figure. It was "Geek," the gangster who had gone out to see that all was clear. "Stop him!" screamed Spotter as he joined in the chase.
Geek fell sprawling as a hard blow reached his chin. The dark-clad figure disappeared from view.
Spotter and his pals reached the street. They stared in both directions. The street was not well-lighted; it was filled with black shadows.
The crooks separated, one running in each direction. Spotter remained at the entrance to the alley, beside the stunned form of Geek. He smiled wickedly as he saw Geek's revolver lying on the ground. He picked up the .38 and looked closely at the sidewalk.
There his sharp eyes detected a small, dark splotch. Blood!
"He's hurt!" muttered Spotter. "I thought de Mex stabbed him in de fight. One of de boys must 'a' plugged him, too. Well, here's where Spotter finishes him."
He saw another splotch a few feet farther on. Edging his way in the shadow of the houses, he moved along the street until he came to a pair of steps. He stopped and listened. Something — some one — was breathing heavily in the shadowy darkness.
By the steps Spotter felt a human form. He set his automatic against the huddled body and placed his finger on the trigger.
A firm hand caught his wrist. The gun dropped from Spotter's grasp. Fingers clutched his throat, and he gasped as consciousness was wrested from him.
A black form emerged from the steps and moved unsteadily down the street, pausing every now and then as it leaned against the wall of a house. It reached the corner and turned into another street, moving always the same — barely visible, then half hidden. Its actions seemed weak and uncertain, as though its power had been spent.