One of the attackers fired, just as The Shadow stooped. The shot went wide. Up came the body of the captive gangster, raised by powerful arms. It was thrust, head foremost, down the steps, into the group of men who were nearing the top.
The attack collapsed. The oncoming mobsmen went down in a group. One of them — the leader — had dodged the falling body of their comrade.
Flat on the steps he raised his arm and fired at the disappearing form of The Shadow. His shot clipped the back of the broad-brimmed hat.
A mocking laugh came from a room above. The Shadow had crossed the hall.
* * *
Outside the building, men were on guard. Toughened characters of the underworld, they were ready to follow instructions to the letter.
Their eyes were on the windows above. Their revolvers were held by firm hands, with fingers on the triggers.
A form emerged from a side window. But it was invisible in the darkness. The man below did not see it, although his eyes were glued to the spot. Like a shadow, the form moved slowly upward toward the roof. It was part of the blackness — no human eye could detect it.
The watching crook saw the shape only when it arrived at the top of the building, above the third floor. The figure emerged from the darkness with surprising suddenness. It appeared as a batlike form — an ominous silhouette against the sky.
A shot came from below; but the aim failed, for the finger pressed the trigger a fraction of a second too late. The Shadow was gone. The foiled crook gave the alarm.