Shadow next fastened his feet, and when the villain was perfectly helpless the detective coolly sat down on the string-piece, to wait until the liquor's effect had passed more away.
McGinnis' fear tended to sobering him quickly, and just as a distant church-clock was striking ten, Shadow arose and then knelt beside the villain, at whom he gazed with a fixed look that indicated unalterable purpose.
"McGinnis, your time is short," the mysterious detective sternly said. "Make your peace with Heaven if you can. In three minutes you die!"
There was no mistaking the tone in which these words were said.
McGinnis was by this time sober enough to understand the full import of the words, and he began to writhe, and strain, and try to burst his bonds.
The wisdom of Shadow's gagging him was now apparent, for had he been free to do so, the villain would have bawled and shrieked like a madman.
"I abhor a murderer, and I shudder at thoughts of murder," Shadow went coldly on. "But I stifle all such feelings for the sake of avenging in a fitting manner the death of one who was more than all the world to me, whom you robbed of life. Now you know why this terrible fate has overtaken you."
It was a fearful sight, that of this man struggling with such fierce intensity to burst his bonds, to free his hands, to save his life.
Like the Nemesis he was, Shadow remained kneeling beside McGinnis, and in calm, cold voice, counted the expiring seconds.
"The three minutes are gone," he finally said, in a tone that was harsh but unwavering, and then——