“You think The Shadow sent a phony ahead of him?”
“I’m inclined to that belief. I doubt that The Shadow would ordinarily balk upon mere suspicion of danger. There may be trouble yet. When The Shadow does arrive, he may choose some extremely clever plan of action. In fact” — Tyrell’s voice paused speculatively — “he might even suspect that five rings at the bell would be the signal of his arrival.”
“You don’t think he’ll get wise to the four rings, do you?”
“Possibly. The Shadow is wily.”
“Say” — Slug Bracken glowered — “you know what that would mean. Foon Koo would open the way for him to come down here. Listen, Tyrell — we ought to have thought about that before—”
Slug broke off. The further door of the room was opening. The gangleader stared in that direction; the gorillas saw Tyrell turn also. Turning heads followed. An oath came from Slug Bracken’s lips.
Standing in the doorway was the counterpart of the prisoner whom Slug had released from the padded cell. For the second time to-night, a person who looked like Mark Tyrell had arrived among the flock of waiting thugs.
LIKE the first Tyrell, the second was clad in evening clothes. He was staring straight across the room, meeting the gaze of the one who stood beside Slug Bracken. The rough-faced gangleader stood stupefied at the amazing sight. The gorillas, too, were dumbfounded. It was the two Tyrells who acted.
Right hands shot toward hips. They whipped out simultaneously. Flashing revolvers glimmered as quick fingers snapped at triggers. Two guns roared. The burst close by Slug Bracken was deafening. Compared to it, the report from the door seemed slight.
A bullet whistled past the ear of the Tyrell who stood near Slug. Then came a gasp from the Tyrell by the door. The revolver clattered from the new entrant’s nerveless fingers. The man’s hands clutched fiercely over his heart.
With a choking gasp, the arrival wavered; then sprawled to the floor. He made no further motion. He was dead.
“The Shadow.” The scornful words came from the victor who was standing by Slug Bracken. “I wounded him at Grolier’s. To-night I have killed him.”
“You said you’d get him,” stammered Slug.
“He was clever,” came Tyrell’s sneer. “More so than I expected. He called my game. While I was coming here clad in cloak and hat like his, he trumped my ace by disguising himself to look like me.
“Fortunately, I held a higher trump.” The speaker slapped his big .45. “I beat him to the draw. That ends The Shadow. Pick him up, men. Toss him where he belongs — in the cell that was arranged for him. Cover the body with the cloak and hat. They are the garments that he should have worn.”
While sober gorillas lifted the body, Slug Bracken watched Tyrell crack open his revolver and remove the empty cartridge from its chamber. Deft fingers inserted another bullet.
Paddy steps from the door, Foon Koo had arrived. He was grinning as he surveyed Slug Bracken and Mark Tyrell.
“Getee Shadow?” he inquired.
“In there,” informed Slug, nudging his thumb toward the padded cell from which the gorillas were returning. “Tyrell killed him.”
“Shadow ringee five,” declared Foon Koo. “Tellee me he come. Foon Koo dropee. Wait to hear four ringee. Mister Tyrell come. Foon Koo comes down. Find out.”
“Say” — Slug turned to Tyrell as Foon Koo left by the door to the room outside the cell — “The Shadow must have wised up to the four rings. Foon Koo don’t get it.”
“Why worry?” came Tyrell’s suave inquiry. Keen eyes here watching through the door, where Foon Koo was surveying the cloak-covered body through the window of the strongroom. “I killed The Shadow. That’s enough.”
Slug was nodding as Foon Koo came pattering back. The Chinaman seemed gleeful. He turned toward the outer door and pointed upward.
“Foon Koo be ready,” he informed. “Letee Pug in. When you thinkee Pug be here?”
“Any minute, Foon Koo.” The reply was in Tyrell’s tone.
The Chinaman padded away. Slug Bracken called to his gorillas. He posted them along the benches. Then he put a query.
“You’re moving the swag? Like you said, Tyrell?”
A nod was the response.
“Alone?” quizzed the gangleader. “Or with the mob?”
“Take the mob if you want.”
“But they don’t know the real lay on—”
“That doesn’t matter. The Shadow is dead.”
“Yeah. But there’s no use letting these mugs know too much. Anyway, it’s up to you, Tyrell. What you say goes. You’re the guy I’m to take orders from. You’ve seen—”
Slug broke off as a new arrival appeared. It was Pug Halfin, alone. The mobleader was wearing a quizzical expression.
“The Shadow is dead,” came Tyrell’s spoken response.
“Where?” demanded Pug.
“In the cell,” was the response. “No time to look him over now. We’re moving the stuff.”
“So you got The Shadow, eh?” grinned Pug. “You told me you’d bag him, when you was leavin’ the old garage. I got my bus outside — the tourin’ car—”
“Come on,” broke in Slug. “We’ll start the swag on the move. Here’s Foon Koo.”
The dwarfish Chinaman had arrived from above. He was beckoning and making gestures upward. He was wearing an inquiring look upon his yellowed face. He was ready to conduct the removal squad to the top story.
“I’ll go up,” stated Slug, accepting the job as his own. “Come along, a couple of you mugs. Got the swag packed, Foon Koo?”
The Chinaman nodded. Without asking any further word of Mark Tyrell, Slug strode from the underground room, followed by a pair of his gorillas. Pug Halfin turned to see Mark Tyrell lighting a cigarette.
“Slug’s takin’ the crew along with him?” questioned Pug.
A nod was the response.
“He can use my buggy,” declared Pug, “an’ one of them two sedans he’s got out on the back street. We can take the extra car back to the garage. We’d better be movin’ pretty quick, Tyrell. Chopper an’ Muff are gettin’ kinda restless.”
A quizzical expression appeared upon Tyrell’s countenance. Pug saw the raise of his companion’s eyebrows.
“On account of what you told us,” he explained. “Remember that you said gettin’ The Shadow was all that counted? Maybe that it wouldn’t be good to stall aroun’ too long at the garage? Well — I said if we wasn’t back there inside of an hour after I left, they could go ahead. That gives us plenty of time, don’t it?”
“You took my statement too literally,” was the severe reply. Tyrell’s brow was clouded. “You seem to have understood that I intended to return to the garage. That is exactly what we shall do.”
“All right,” agreed Pug, in an apologetic tone. “I just wanted to play it safe — an’ keep the boys from crabbin’. You know what those mugs are like. We can get started now, if you give the say-so.”
PUG shifted toward the outer door. His companion followed. They reached the flight of stairs and ascended to the ground floor. They stepped out into the alleyway beside the house. Pug saw Tyrell’s eyes turn toward the front street. A touring car was parked on the opposite side of the thoroughfare. It was empty.
The cigarette glowed as it was pressed between firm lips. Pug wondered why Tyrell was staring at the empty car. He was about to put a whispered question when scuffling sounds announced the arrival of Slug Bracken and his followers. The extra gorillas had arrived from above.
Slug and the two who had come from upstairs were carrying the bags laden with jeweled relics. The gangleader gave his own bag to another henchman. He instructed the three bearers to carry their burdens to the touring car.
“I’ll drive,” announced Slug. “The rest of you guys take one of the sedans. Wait a minute — not you, Lefty. You’ll need this one gorilla, Tyrell, to help Slug lug out that dead phony. Go back inside, Lefty. Take your orders from Tyrell.”