Yet the conflict seemed equal. The ape-man was recovering now, and for a moment The Shadow appeared weakened. Then both forms stood motionless, apparently at ease. But the observers on the ground knew that each of them was using all his strength.
"I'm going up the stairs!" exclaimed Harry.
"Wait!" Major Weston's voice was commanding. "You can do nothing on the tower. You would be hurled aside in that terrible struggle. Your place is here with me. If they separate for an instant we must shoot to kill the monster."
They watched the battle helplessly. At times the figures swayed. Once the ape-man staggered backward, and the major's finger was on the trigger of his automatic. The next instant The Shadow had followed up his advantage. Again the grappling shapes were locked.
Minutes went by — terrible, tense minutes — while the weird fray continued beneath the glare of the risen moon. Then the strength of the ape-faced man became more apparent. It was Jupe who was fighting strongly now.
"There will be a break," promised Weston, his voice betraying his anxiety. "My aim is true, even at this distance. But I must wait until they are apart."
"The monster is forcing the fight," groaned Harry. "We cannot wait long. It will be too late."
* * *
As if in answer to the gloomy prophecy, the two forms on the top of the tower moved steadily toward the parapet. For a tragic moment the figure of The Shadow seemed to lean over the edge. Then, imbued with sudden strength, it regained its former position. Yet the ape-man still held the advantage.
Again human strength began to yield as the power of the fiend increased. The Shadow's form seemed to collapse, going down beneath the bulk of the fierce monster. It reappeared, a twisted shape, half-thrust from the edge of the ruined tower.