Weakened from loss of blood, and strained by superhuman effort, The Shadow was experiencing a relapse. He sagged as he made his way along the corridor. His footsteps faltered.
He sank to his knees. The flashlight went out. Crawling weakly through the darkness, The Shadow strove to reach the end of the corridor. Foot by foot he progressed, resting now and then before he resumed his tedious way. At last he gained his feet again, and paced forward at an unsteady gait. The effort spent his strength. With a last spasmodic exertion, The Shadow neared the wall at the end of the corridor, and lost his footing. He plunged to the floor, and lay still. All was dark and silent throughout the passage. The Shadow lay as motionless as the two men who were dead. He had sought to make his exit from this vaulted corridor of death, but had failed.
Was The Shadow alive — or was he dead?
Chapter XIX — Butcher Enters
Deacon, standing by the open door that led to the alleyway, was superintending the loading of coffins upon one of Harvey Bronlon's trucks.
Four men were at work. They had brought the caskets from below, and had stacked them in the alley. Now their task was nearly completed. Only two of the long boxes remained.
"Put them in the hearse," ordered Deacon. "I didn't think the truck would hold them all."
The men obeyed.
While the workers were thus engaged, Deacon drew away from the front door and stepped into the funeral parlor. "Butcher," he whispered.
The big man advanced through the gloomy room.