Shadow laughed quietly.
He had the advantage—had turned the tables, and was aware of it.
He now assumed the aggressive, and took a step toward them, menacing them with the loaded and cocked weapon.
They retreated.
Finally one uttered a few low, hoarse-toned words, and then they took to their heels, Shadow after them.
Around the corner they dashed, but the detective kept them in sight until they disappeared into the alley-way which they had used to head him off. It was a singular incident, and would have appeared so to any one who could have been there to witness it. Nor was it any the less thrilling that it was so quiet.
During the whole affair, from beginning to end, Shadow had uttered no word, but had preserved that mysterious silence in which he had wrapped himself, for causing him to break which on a certain occasion he had poured out on my head the vials of his wrath.
He had conquered four desperate men, had done it in as calm a manner as he would have eaten his dinner.
Verily, he was a mysterious being.
In thinking of him afterward, it seemed to me as if his path and mine were always crossing, for it was due to him that Woglom and his pal and myself were placed in our horrible fix.