A heavy chair smashed against the door. Another swing, and the central panel gave. The third stroke broke the rickety door clear from its hinges. The way was open for the mob of vicious gunmen!
Chapter XV — The Hand of the Shadow
As the door of the inner room clattered to the floor, the attacking mobsmen dropped away to cover. Their first step gained, they waited for the moment. The way was dear, but they knew that in the room an armed man waited them.
A short, powerful ruffian stood in the center of the large, outer room. This was Barney Gleason, leader of the gorillas.
He stared coolly about him, and saw that his forces numbered nearly twenty men. Four were waiting by the door of the inner room. The others were scattered about at tables.
There were a few faces that Barney Gleason did not recognize, but they did not matter. All here were mobsmen, and the few outsiders who were present by chance would follow the law of gangdom. They would join with the attacking mob, if required. But Gleason knew that they would not be needed. He noticed one man — a grimy, sweater-clad individual — seated at a far table. The fellow's ugly face bore a long, livid scar. He was a man whom Gleason did not know, but that did not matter. A single glance convinced the gang leader that the scar-faced man was a fighter of the underworld. Like a general reviewing his troops, Barney Gleason finished his calm inspection of his forces. Standing boldly in the center of the room, he faced the door of the inner compartment and waved his automatic in that direction.
"Go get him!" he ordered.
All eyes turned toward the door of the beleaguered room. The four men crouching beside it would be the shock troops. With one sustained rush they would enter and overpower the doomed man. Perhaps one or more of them might fall. What of it? That was the chance that went with membership in Barney Gleason's mob.
Dick Terry's only hope of escaping the four gorillas would be to break through their attack. That might not be difficult.
If he chose to flee, they would, in all probability, let him go— out into the room where more than a dozen revolvers sparkled in readiness.