A whispered laugh sounded eerily in the darkness. The Shadow was gone. He had ended the menace of the black hush in Manhattan.
One more mission lay ahead. The trail that Goldy Tancred and Hobbs had taken must be followed. The Shadow was ready for that task.
CHAPTER XXVII. PURSUIT IS ENDED
A SWIFT touring car shot out of a Manhattan garage, not far from the Judruth Tower. The automobile contained three men. Goldy Tancred was at the wheel. Hobbs was beside him. Harry Vincent, bound and helpless, was in the back seat. He had been dragged through darkness by these captors, and hurled bodily into the car.
The vehicle’s top was down. Mounted upon the back of the front seat was a post; upon it, what appeared to be a large searchlight.
The moment that the car appeared, shouts told of its arrival. A policeman at the side of the garage fired wildly, and missed his target.
Goldy and Hobbs had made a mad escape by commandeering a taxi and threatening the driver. Goldy had wounded a policeman, an advance member of a raiding squad approaching the Judruth Tower. That had marked the beginning of the chase. The pair of villains had left the cab and hurried into the garage where they had picked up Harry Vincent and thrust him into their own car.
A siren sounded as a police car shot up the street in pursuit of the fleeing touring car. Goldy Tancred clung grimly to the wheel. Hobbs, calm in the darkness, clicked a switch on the peculiar searchlight.
A flood of blackness swept behind the touring car. It filled the street and buried the police car in its strange darkness. The power of the black hush put the pursuer’s ignition out of commission. Goldy Tancred turned a corner, and swung along an avenue.
Another police car was bearing down. Shots burst from it. Hobbs responded with the ray. The new pursuer was crippled. The touring car kept on its mad course.
Then came a procession of strange events. Hobbs pivoted the black-faced searchlight so its darkened rays pointed ahead, throwing a pall that began some fifty feet in front of the touring car’s headlights.
Traffic was clear along the avenue. Following a swath of darkness, the speedy touring car continued its mad pace with nothing ahead to intercept it. Cars were stalled by the powerful gloom. Goldy Tancred picked his way by the short space of light which the front lamps furnished.
The black ray became intermittent as Hobbs clicked the switch off and on. This system was effective. It showed the avenue ahead; at the same time, it brought back the darkness that cleared all that lay in the path.
PICKING a new course, Goldy found another avenue and again headed northward. As the touring car bowled along toward the Harlem River, a siren call resounded. A police car was cutting in behind. Word of the fleeing men had been telephoned from headquarters.
Hobbs swung the strange searchlight on its movable pivot. A sweep of blackness caught the police car in its gloom. Once more, a chaser had been thwarted. The touring car shot over a bridge.
A clear path! It seemed open now, but as the fleeing automobile whirled along the light boulevard, a new pursuer threatened. From above came the thrum of a powerful motor. A police airplane had taken up the chase!
Muttered oaths came from Goldy Tancred. He threw a hopeless, sidelong glance toward the man beside him. This meant disaster. The followers from the air could keep pace with the traveling automobile. They could swoop down and riddle this car with machine-gun bullets.
It was Hobbs who counteracted the emergency. He, the operator, knew the full power of the black ray.
The black-faced searchlight pointed upward. Its projected darkness suddenly blotted out the lights of the biplane that was swooping from above!
The touring car was traveling at a clip faster than sixty miles an hour. Gauging this speed, Hobbs coolly wielded the ray at a somewhat faster pace. The police plane was enveloped in a wide range of blackness.
Its motor stopped, the pursuit ship was helpless. Close to the ground, it banked as its pilot tried to avoid a crash. Completely obscured by darkness, with ignition out of commission, the situation reached a critical point.
The touring car whirled onward; Hobbs lost the focus. Light glimmered above as the biplane was freed from the power of the black hush. Good fortune, however, came too late. The pursuing pilot managed to pick a vacant space, but his plane crashed in the sudden landing.
Harry Vincent, staring upward, saw the lights of the biplane whirl in the final spin. The Shadow’s agent closed his eyes. On through the chilly night — he did not know where he was being carried. He realized only that the last attempt to halt this fleeing touring car had failed. Cold almost to a stupor, Harry forgot the passage of time.
WHEN the prisoner opened his eyes, he found that the car had stopped in front of an old house. They were in an isolated spot. Harry’s captor dragged him from the automobile. They carried him around the house to a low, flat building beyond.
Through a door; then Harry found himself flat upon his back in what seemed to be a stone-floored room.
A light came on; Harry stared at the gloating face of Goldy Tancred. There was no mistaking the big shot; the flashing mouth betokened his identity.
Who was the other? Harry had heard Goldy call his companion by the name of Hobbs. The second man was turning; to his amazement, Harry saw the pale face of Don Chalvers!
Like Goldy, Chalvers was grinning. Harry Vincent realized that the young engineer’s nervousness had been an affectation.
Well did Harry understand the reason for the murder of Roland Furness. Don Chalvers, possessor of the black ray, had found it essential to eliminate the one man who might have betrayed the secret!
“I’m bringing in the projector,” Chalvers informed Goldy. “Setting it up on this flat roof. If anyone heads this way, it may prove useful.”
“Not much chance,” responded Goldy. “We shook them right; I’m not worrying.”
Nevertheless, Chalvers went about his duty. Tancred remained, glowering at Harry Vincent. At last, while his companion was still absent, Goldy addressed Harry with a hostile growl.
“You’re working for The Shadow, eh?”
Harry did not respond to the big shot’s quiz.
“Trying to keep mum?” Goldy’s question was sneering. “Well, we’ll find out how to make you talk. Maybe you think we’ve been licked tonight. Not us. We lost a good guy — they got Clipper Hardigan, sure enough. But the brains are still here. Chalvers fooled you, eh? Framed you up in his apartment. Well, he’s smart and so am I.”
Harry still preserved silence. Minutes passed. Don Chalvers returned. He and Goldy Tancred held a conference. The big shot swung toward Harry Vincent.
“Look here,” he said. “We’re giving you a break. We’re going to scram, see? Out of the country. I’ll tell you where — to London. We’re goin to crack the Bank of England when we get this ray of ours in operation.
“You think I’m kidding you? Not a bit of it. There’s only one person who might put a crimp in our game. That’s The Shadow — the one you’re working for. So here’s our offer. Spill what you know. Stick with us, and bluff The Shadow into thinking that we’ll kill you if he moves.
“He’ll stay out of the game. If it looks best, we’ll give you a chance to send him phony information. Take him off the trail. You’ll get your cut out of the swag.”
Harry Vincent remained obdurate. Goldy Tancred watched the captive’s face during long minutes. At last, the big shot turned to Don Chalvers.
“He won’t squawk,” announced Goldy Tancred. “He still thinks The Shadow can pull him out of his pickle. There’s only one thing to do. Give this heel the works—”
Goldy Tancred stopped suddenly. His gold teeth shone as he scowled. He grasped Don Chalvers by the arm and the pair assumed a listening attitude.