The sash was lowered. Silently, invisibly, as darkly as the night itself, The Shadow had entered the house of mystery!
This time there was no telltale spot of light within the house. The man who had come from the dark moved with certainty.
He found the door to the room with the hanging curtains. He unlocked it noiselessly, with the chosen key.
He passed silently through the dark room and found the opening in the curtains with unerring precision.
Then he passed through the smaller room. The curtains that hung over the alcoved window moved but made no noise. The Shadow was at his post, awaiting The Black Master!
Minutes went by; then hours. The little room was as silent as a tomb. Far away, from the front of the house, came a slight noise.
It was inaudible to those passing by in the street. Ordinary ears would not have heard it. But the keen hearing of the man in the curtained alcove was keyed to its highest pitch.
That noise was the opening of the outer door. It signified the arrival of The Black Master!
Silence followed.
A man had entered, but he, too, could move noiselessly through that strange house. There was no indication where he might be.
The man behind the shielding curtains was calm; in one hand he held an automatic, in the other a flashlight. He was waiting for the all-important moment — and he had not long to wait. His patience was rewarded by a slight sound in the inner room.
A small light clicked. The curtains of the alcove parted the fraction of an inch. Keen, invisible eyes peered through.
Still The Shadow waited. There was no need for haste. His presence was unknown. He knew that the men Cardona had promised would be ready for the signal. His finger was on the trigger of his automatic.
He was timing his surprise for the moment when The Black Master would appear.
At present, the enemy was somewhere in the room — not yet in sight of the narrow aperture between the curtains.
There was another purpose that governed The Shadow's actions. He was waiting to view The Black Master. Cold, calm, and calculating, he always studied his foe when the opportunity presented itself.
Here, tonight, The Shadow had invaded his enemy's lair by stealth. He had turned everything to his own advantage. He knew every spot on the floor of the house. He had made sure, the night before, that the alcove where he now waited was a safe point of vantage.
The fate of The Black Master rested in his hands, and he had decided that the master criminal should answer for his fierce campaign of unrestrained slaughter.
Never before had The Shadow encountered a foe so worthy of his prowess. Until this all-important moment, The Black Master had checked The Shadow at every turn.
The supermind of evil had surrounded himself with a veil of mystery that had thwarted The Shadow for many weeks. But now the end was at hand. The muzzle of the automatic moved between the curtains.
Blackened, the opening of the gun was totally invisible.
There was a noise in the room. Someone was moving closer to the curtains. An arm appeared across the room, near the table against the wall. Then came a body — that of a tall, stoop-shouldered man whose garments were a tight-fitting black, whose head was covered by a dark skullcap.
The man's back was turned. The face of The Black Master was not yet revealed. The Shadow waited.
The hand of the visible man rested beside the desk. A low, venomous chuckle came from the lips of the hidden face. The hand moved upward.
Simultaneously, the unexpected happened. The entire window seat upon which The Shadow crouched gave way! The hidden man was precipitated into empty space, so rapidly that he had no chance to save himself!
But even in that instant of total surprise, The Shadow did not fail. His finger pressed the trigger of his automatic. In his sudden fall, the shot went wide, although the bullet struck the wall less than a foot above the skullcapped head of The Black Master.
The thought dominated The Shadow's mind as he plunged into the space below. Whatever his fate might be, he had given the alarm. The police who surrounded the house would come to the capture of The Black Master.
Headed by Cardona, their surprise attack had chances of success and rescue. The signal had been given!
The Black Master was at bay!
The falling man struck the bottom of the pit. His fall was broken by a thick mattress. His lithe body withstood the shock.
The Shadow raised himself to his feet and groped the sides of the cell about him. Then nauseating fumes swept through the air. The Shadow made one last effort to find his way to freedom. It was hopeless.
Superman though he was, no escape was possible. The overpowering gas found its victim. The Shadow sank into unconsciousness, an outstretched form garbed in flowing cloak, his features still hidden beneath the forward-tilted brim of his soft hat.
From the opening above came a low, mirthful chuckle. The Black Master was gloating over the capture of his foe!
CHAPTER XX. THE MASTER MAKES TERMS
THE bottom of the pit moved upward. It was the flat lift of a small elevator. Upon it lay the body of the man in the black cloak.
He was motionless at first, but as the elevator reached the top of the pit, he stirred slightly. He was too weak for concentrated action.
The front of the window alcove opened. The room was semidark and a form bent over the body of The Shadow. Then the mattress upon which the semiconscious man was lying became a wheeled vehicle.
It moved forward, a noiseless, rubber-wheeled truck. It was pushed through the smaller room, into the apartment with the hanging curtains. There, in the center of the room, the black-cloaked form was rolled upon the floor.
The helpless man did not move for a while. Then he stirred and rose to a sitting position. His black cloak spread and covered his legs.
He had the appearance of a half-formed man, growing through the black carpet of the room.
The dim light changed. It became a wavering blue — a fantastic light in which the man in the black cloak seemed strangely unreal. Beneath that light, his figure cast no shadow!
There was a motion in the curtain at the end of the room. The Shadow rose to his feet. He faced the spot in front of him.
Then came the illusion of a bulging curtain — a black form that had no shape of its own. A white, blurred face appeared — even the keen eyes of The Shadow could not observe its features.
"At last!" came the monotonous voice of The Black Master. "At last we meet!"
The Shadow did not respond.
"You are here" — said The Black Master — "here to do my bidding!"
There was an answer now. A low, mocking laugh came from beneath the broad black hat. It was a laugh of scorn and defiance, a challenge to the man who called himself The Master.
Never — even in his moments of greatest triumph — had The Shadow laughed so tauntingly. The sound reverberated through the room. The billowy curtains seemed to ripple as the echoes resounded.
"You laugh now," said The Black Master. "Later, we shall learn if you have cause to laugh!"
The blue lights trembled and cast their uncanny glow. The Shadow remained defiant and undisturbed.
"In this room," said The Master, "I have met men who have chosen to live. I have met some who have chosen to die. Which do you choose?"
There was no answer.
"One man," he continued, "chose neither life nor death. Is that your choice? Your silence will be regarded as assent!"
Still — no answer.
"Very well! You have made your choice!"
The shape advanced from the curtains, its arms extended. Before it hung the crystal globe that sparkled with vivid light. The blue illumination flickered. The form of The Shadow trembled from the shock. The man in the black cloak was riveted to the spot where he stood.