But Jark had suggested nothing that indicated murder was afoot. To preserve the friendship of the prisoner they dropped, it was essential that they should avoid a killing under the very windows of Lamont Cranston’s home. But if the new victim should put up a fight, Matt intended to mow him down, with Louie’s aid.
Matt Theblaw was clever. Two of his men knew what was up. But those two were the pair up in the car ahead: Pete and his pal. They had been present during Professor Jark’s interview with the prisoner. They knew the part they were to play; but they had gained no chance to talk with Matt’s crew.
All this was to Matt’s liking. The crook was thinking of the surprise his men would get after snatching The Shadow; when he revealed the identity of their new victim. For Matt, relishing the idea of a surprise attack, felt full confidence in his scheme.
Matt wanted The Shadow alive. He had — so he thought — a golden opportunity to trap the master fighter. Never before, to Matt Theblaw’s knowledge, had raiders managed to catch The Shadow unaware. For once, Matt believed, The Shadow’s own confidence would make him easy prey.
Guised as Lamont Cranston, not knowing that his counterpart had returned to New York, The Shadow would be enjoying a respite from battle when he returned to his New Jersey home. Tonight — so Matt believed — The Shadow had been balked in open fray.
The gorillas with Matt were men who had fought from atop the stairway. They were still exultant over The Shadow’s retreat. Not elated enough to tell them that they would again be up against The Shadow. The memory of fallen companions might throw cold water on their enthusiasm.
But they were confident enough to seize a man from ambush. That was sufficient for Matt Theblaw. Watching the road ahead, the big crook smiled to himself as he listened to the chuckles of Louie and the other mobsmen.
THE coupe ahead had taken to a lonely road. Matt Theblaw knew the general vicinity of Lamont Cranston’s home. He had looked into that after the early evening capture. He was sure that they must be close to the grounds of the millionaire’s estate.
Then the coupe began to slow. It pulled up past a gateway, where Pete piloted it to a stop beyond some bushes. Matt gripped Louie’s arm and told the driver to stop in front of the gate. Louie complied.
“We’re heading in,” informed Matt, “without lights. Feel your way, Louie, by the gravel on the tires. Pete’s holding that guy he’s got until we make the snatch. Look there; see the lights of the house? Guide by them.”
Louie blinked off the lights. He turned the sedan into the driveway. A slight glow from windows of the mansion ahead showed that the driveway separated to form a circle in front of the house. Matt gave another nudge.
“Take the left,” he whispered. “Stop before you get to the house. I don’t think the bird’s home yet. If he comes in, he’ll cut around by the right.”
Louie obeyed the instructions. He brought the sedan to a stop at the edge of the circle. Matt motioned the two gorillas out into the drive. They moved up to the steps of the house and crouched there, ready for a new command.
OUT on the road past the gate, Pete and his pal were waiting in the coupe. Their prisoner was between them; both thugs had hands upon revolvers, but they were keeping the weapons out of sight.
The Shadow was calculating. He had played his ruse almost to the limit. He had brought Pete to Lamont Cranston’s, believing that Matt Theblaw might have learned the exact location of this estate. The Shadow knew that Matt had followed; he knew that the tall crook was posted with his crew.
Moreover, The Shadow had figured Matt’s game to the dot. He knew that the crook would want to make a silent capture; that there would be no fireworks, if Matt could help it. But The Shadow did not care to trust that to chance.
Here, in the confines of the coupe, he was waiting for the right opportunity to deal double attack against Pete and the fellow’s pal. Unarmed, The Shadow faced bad odds. But he had a plan of action that would work. Soon, he was sure, either Pete or the other mobsman would get the idea of stepping from the car. Then would come opportunity. Already Pete was shifting at the wheel, one hand on the handle of the door.
Then, just as The Shadow saw success before him, a new event spelled finish to the plan. A glare of light flashed suddenly from the road at the gateway; the glow turned suddenly and cut off into the drive. With it came the crunch of heavy tires upon gravel.
Lamont Cranston’s limousine had come in from New York. The millionaire was riding straight into the trap that Matt Theblaw had provided for him. Pete and his pal became rigid, guns half drawn from their pockets. The Shadow could only wait.
A battle in the coupe would prove fruitless. Shots here would cause hubbub by the house. A man’s life was at stake. The Shadow could not afford to risk a disturbance that might bring wild action elsewhere. He still, however, had one factor upon which he could count. The chances were that the capture at the mansion would be an easy one. After that would come The Shadow’s turn.
UP by the house, Stanley had alighted from the limousine. The chauffeur was opening the door of the big car. The front door of the house opened also. Richards, the valet, stood in view. A shaft of light showed the cement walk beside the drive.
Then, from the limousine, stepped the real Lamont Cranston. Light showed full upon the millionaire’s face. Lurking mobsters recognized the double of the prisoner who had been at Professor Jark’s. As Cranston stepped toward the house, two brawny forms lunged forward to meet him.
The millionaire was caught entirely off guard. The attack bowled him over. As he rolled upon the ground, the thugs pounced fiercely and dragged him to his feet, half dazed. While Stanley and Richard stood astounded, the captors swept their bewildered prisoner toward the car where Matt and Louie awaited them.
On came the lights. The sedan was in reverse as the mobsters bundled their captive aboard and leaped in after. Revolvers were pressed against Cranston’s body; then the guns were raised as the victim sank helpless in Theblaw’s clutch.
The sedan swished backward through a shrubbery bed. Louie spun the wheel to head it for the gate. At the house, Richards gave a cry of alarm and dashed in to find a weapon. Stanley, in turn leaped to the wheel of the limousine, to give pursuit.
Out on the road, Pete had seen the blinks of lights. Hearing the cry of Richards, the driver of the coupe gave a hoarse laugh. The job was done. It was time to get rid of his first prisoner. Pete grunted to his pal, who yanked open the door on the right.
“Hop out,” ordered the gorilla, shoving The Shadow forward. “We’re goin’ places.”
“And call off the bloodhounds,” added Pete, remembering orders in Matt’s note. “Tell’em you’re all right. Savvy?”
The Shadow dropped from the step. As Pete shoved the coupe in gear, his companion leaned forward to close the door. Then came The Shadow’s stroke. Like a flash, he dropped lethargy for action. Long arms shot forward; vise-like fingers caught the leaning gorilla’s throat.
PETE was stepping on the gas as The Shadow grabbed his pal. Turning, Pete saw the fellow go headlong from the coupe. The Shadow had whipped the thug clear with the precision of a mongoose attacking a writhing cobra.
Pete jammed the brakes. As he did, he heard a terrorizing sound. From that figure on the ground came the burst of a wild, outlandish laugh. It was a cry that had until now been silent — the mocking merriment of The Shadow.
Wildly, Pete stepped on the gas. As the coupe shot away, The Shadow dived to the ground and grabbed up a gleaming revolver that had come from the clutch of the man whom he had overpowered.