A look of vague understanding flitted over Froman’s face.
“Then, the trap was not set,” resumed The Shadow. “Tonight it has been prepared. Only one who enters here can leave — so you believe. I shall show you that you are wrong.”
He tapped upon the door. The steel curtain began to rise. Two men stood in the outer passage. At a word from The Shadow, they entered, as the figure in black stepped aside.
Still covering his enemies with the automatic, The Shadow raised his free left hand and held the door open from beneath. Another word and the two men approached the box upon the table. They closed the lid and worked the table toward the door.
Two masked operatives had followed here at The Shadow’s bidding. They had been waiting for the signal. They had turned the safe outer knob. Now, they were removing the false jewels.
His agents gone, The Shadow waited, still holding the fatal curtain of steel. His last words were a command.
“You may make your peace,” he said. The figure in black stepped through the barrier. The steel door glided downward. The threatening automatic followed with it, moving just below the bottom edge. As the curtain neared the final stopping point, the three men in the dungeon could see only the muzzle of the automatic until the final spot was reached. The door clicked shut as the end of the weapon disappeared.
The Shadow’s judgment had been declared.
The figure in black was gone.