“Look,” said Wing Toy.
Moose came to the window. What he saw brought new imprecations from him.
Bob Galvin, haggard even in the obscure light, was rising from a couch in the corner. The prisoner was staring in wonderment.
Before him stood a man clad in black — The Shadow, wearing the very garments that Moose had thrown from the tunnel!
“He is very clever,” declared Wing Toy, from the darkness behind Moose. “He has done what no man ever did before. He has found the secret lock to the panel of the real tunnel.”
“He’s taking Galvin away!” snarled Shargin. “Making a clean getaway. Can’t you stop him?”
“There is no way to stop him,” replied Wing Toy, in the tone of a fatalist.
“He’ll get us for this!” groaned Moose. “You and me both, Wing Toy — like he trapped Garry, here — how, nobody knows.”
“I have no quarrel with The Shadow,” said Wing Toy calmly. “He is a wise man. That I can see. He is dangerous to those who oppose him. He will know that this is your work — not mine.”
Another snarl from Moose Shargin told what was happening more effectively than if the gang leader had spoken words.
In obedience to The Shadow’s command, the prisoner was leaving the room where he had been so long confined. He seemed weak and unsteady. The Shadow was aiding him.
As the two men disappeared from Shargin’s view, the one in black turned momentarily toward the little window. Moose saw the glimmer of his eyes. Then he began to understand.
They were the eyes of the Chinese guard — the man who had looked at him and Garry, but who had avoided the gaze of Wing Toy!
“He knocked out your guard!” exclaimed Moose, to Wing Toy. “The guy outside the door — while we were planning in here. It was him you told to go away — and he answered you in your own lingo!
“You’ll find your man lying cold in one of those old hop rooms. Then The Shadow must have come in here and fooled Garry — knocked him unconscious, too — fixed himself up to look like Garry — laying for us—”
The remainder of Moose Shargin’s disjointed explanation became incoherent. Rage was overcoming the thwarted gang leader.
Unaided, The Shadow had deceived watchful eyes, had overpowered two men and had captured the others in their own snare; had found the secret of Wing Toy’s panel!
Bob Galvin had escaped — and The Shadow was gone!
As he waited in the gloom, fuming while Wing Toy quietly looked forward to the arrival of assistance, Moose Shargin fancied that he heard a sinister sound.
Even in the depths of that steel-walled trap, his ears seemed to catch the mocking laugh of The Shadow.
CHAPTER XIX
BRIGGS opened the front door of the Galvin mansion. He recognized the man who was standing on the steps. It was Harry Vincent.
“Hello,” said Harry. “Is Mr. Galvin at home?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Briggs, promptly, “but he is not feeling well, sir. Didn’t you get my master’s message at the Astorbilt?”
“No.”
Briggs feigned surprise.
“It was a little while after you left,” he said. “Mr. — er — Mr. Galvin had a sudden attack of dizziness. He called in a doctor, who told him to go to bed and rest. So he called up the Astorbilt and left word for you to — er — to call him to-morrow.”
“I didn’t receive the message,” said Harry, quietly.
He knew that Briggs was lying; at the same time, Harry was making a pretense. He was giving the impression that he had been waiting a long while at the Astorbilt.
As a matter of fact, he had been watching this very front door for the past three hours. He had returned to his post after having cleverly trailed Briggs to Brindle’s Cafe, and had remained outside the restaurant until Moose Shargin and Garry Elvers had appeared.
Harry had not recognized the gangsters. They had not known him. But a man walking close behind them had given Harry a quick signal which meant he was no longer needed.
Harry had departed, and had arrived near the old Galvin mansion before Briggs had returned. He had seen Briggs go in; but the false Bob Galvin had not come out.
So Harry had not been to the Astorbilt at all. He had phoned to a special number, and had heard Burbank answer. He had been told that the Astorbilt would be informed that Mr. Vincent would not be there if any one inquired. Burbank, Harry knew, had attended to that.
So Harry had waited, in the darkness of a parked coupe on the other side of the narrow street, ready to follow the false Bob Galvin, should the man appear.
Harry lingered hesitatingly on the front steps; then he bade Briggs good night and started to the street. The big man watched him. He stepped out from the shelter of the front door in order to keep Harry in view for a few seconds longer.
So intent was Briggs that he did not notice a vague shadowy form that crept upward beside him. Like an apparition, it slipped through the open front door. Briggs turned and reentered the house.
As the door closed behind him, Briggs felt himself seized in an overpowering grasp. His assailant worked quickly and with telling effect. A strong forearm pressed so firmly against the big man’s throat that not even a gurgle came from his lips.
Briggs crumpled upon the floor. In a few seconds, he was gagged and securely bound. A hand from the darkness reopened the front door. There was a low, indistinguishable hiss.
Two men came from a car across the street, one leaning unsteadily upon the other. They entered the darkened hallway and moved quietly across the room into gloomy light. Their faces were revealed.
One was Harry Vincent, grim and purposeful. The other was the real Bob Galvin, pale and tired-looking.
Again that hiss — a soft sibilant sound. Harry stopped beside a large comfortable chair. He placed Bob Galvin in it.
Then came a low whisper from the man in the darkness. His black, shadowy form moved into the gloom and stood close beside Harry.
“Look for Maddox,” came the soft words. “He may be in the study.”
Harry nodded. He saw the black form glide across the hallway and merge with the darkened stairs. The Shadow was gone on a search of the second floor. He had left the ground floor to Harry.
The young man drew an automatic and moved uncertainly in the direction of the study. He saw a gleam of light around a corner. He advanced and reached the study door. With revolver leveled, ready for instant use, he peered into the lighted room.
It was empty. The false Bob Galvin was not there.
Harry returned to the foot of the stairs. He then went over and sat beside Bob Galvin. There was another sibilant sound through the gloom.
“He’s not in the study,” Harry reported, in a low voice.
“Take Galvin in,” came a whisper.
Harry helped Bob Galvin into the study. Hardly had they seated themselves, before a huge form appeared in the doorway. It was Briggs, bound and gagged, being carried by invisible arms.
Lifted from the floor, the big man appeared tremendous. His body swung forward and was laid in the center of the room. Above it stood a man clad in black, his face hidden beneath the broad-brim of a dark hat, his chin obscured by the upturned collar of his sable cloak.
Briggs opened his frightened eyes and stared at the grim form above him. The Shadow leaned forward and slipped the gag from the man’s mouth.
“Where is Maddox?” came the sibilant question.
“I don’t know,” replied Briggs, weakly. He could see two glaring eyes staring into his face.
“When did he leave here?” was the next question.
“While I was out.”