Arnaud stopped. He was staring at the door. Martha saw the steely glint in his eyes — the sparkle that she had seen in the eyes of The Shadow. She stared in the direction of his gaze — toward the front door. The door had opened, and three masked men were advancing. They were uncouth, roughly dressed fellows. Each carried a gleaming revolver, and their weapons were covering Henry Arnaud and Martha Delmar.
The girl gasped. She knew the stories of past activities in Middletown. These men were vigilantes, organized to deal mob violence. Somehow, they had learned that Henry Arnaud was in this house. They had identified him with the cause of Hubert Salisbury, whom all Middletown now cursed. Bravely, the girl placed herself in front of Henry Arnaud. This man was wounded. He was a guest in her home. Defiantly, she faced the invaders.
The leader of the vigilantes laughed. He thrust the girl aside. Henry Arnaud offered no resistance. A look of puzzlement appeared upon his face. He quietly awaited the bidding of these captors.
"We want you," said the leader gruffly. "Come along quietly. You and the girl, both. Nothing's going to happen to you if you behave yourself."
Henry Arnaud walked calmly forward, the leader striding beside him, his revolver pressed close to his captive. Martha Delmar was protesting. The other two men were dragging her in spite of her struggles. A hand was thrust in front of the girl's mouth, to prevent an outcry.
For Martha was trying to scream the truth. She knew the ways of vigilantes.
Outside the door, other men would be waiting. They would assassinate Henry Arnaud the moment that he stepped through the door. The man would be between two fires.
The leader of the trio had Henry Arnaud at his mercy. The other men were holding their guns, but the girl was taxing all their efforts.
Arnaud, had he resisted, would have been shot on the instant. Martha, however, was a different matter. She was not to die. The brutal killing of a girl would turn public sympathy against these vigilantes. Arnaud and his captor were nearing the half-opened door. The chief of the vigilantes urged the wounded man to one side. He wanted Martha to be dragged out first. He shot a quick, wary glance, to see that they were coming.
That was the movement which Arnaud had been peacefully awaiting. In an instant, the quiet, deliberate form of Henry Arnaud had become the swift, active Shadow.