Turning, Farrow thrust the box into the hands of Police Chief Kerr.
“Take care of this,” warned Farrow. “For there, beside you, stands the man who slew Wilbur Granger!”
With a dramatic gesture, Farrow swung his arm and pointed straight at Eric Griffel!
THERE was no need for further accusation. Griff, the powerful leader of the vigilantes, was cowering in the doorway. His face betrayed his own guilt. His game of years had been uncovered.
Griff’s fealty to Townsend Rowling; his desire, tonight, to slay Slade Farrow — these were fitting proofs to Alexis Kerr and Norton Granger.
The Shadow’s mockery crept weirdly through the room where astounded men were standing. That weird laugh was the affirmation of Slade Farrow’s words.
The Shadow, ever since that night when he had visited the penitentiary, had been gaining new facts concerning Slade Farrow’s purpose. He had thrown his might into the balance.
Slade Farrow, the man who had come to Southfield to right great wrong, had gained his sole desire. When failure had capped Farrow’s noble efforts, The Shadow had stepped forth to bring the truth to light!
CHAPTER XXII
THE BREAK
“YOU’RE under arrest!”
Police Chief Kerr uttered these words as he turned to Eric Griffel. Thrusting out a brawny hand, the chief gripped Griff by the arm.
Footsteps on the stairs. Griff swung a quick glance through the doorway. It was Caderly and a squad of deputies, arriving to investigate the delay.
Chief Kerr, in grasping Griff’s arm, had committed a grave mistake. Kerr’s body was swinging between Griff and the spot where The Shadow stood. With a sudden shout, Griff swung his fist up to Kerr’s chin.
As the police chief staggered, Griff dived toward the stairs. His screaming words were orders to his arriving vigilantes — men who did not know the truth.
“Get them!” shouted Griff. “Shoot them down! All of them!”
Loyal to Griff, Caderly sprang to the door of the store room to meet the lunging form of Police Chief Kerr. He aimed his revolver to fire. A shot thundered from across the room. The Shadow, picking an opening past Kerr’s shoulder, felled Caderly with a bullet in his arm.
It was the signal for strife. The deputies in the store room, although they had heard the truth, took sudden measures in Griff’s behalf. They came up with their rifles, ready to fight Slade Farrow and his henchmen.
The effort was too late. Hawkeye was leaping forward to attack. Following his example, the others piled upon the deputies. Norton Granger joined in the attack.
One of Griff’s ruffians swung free and aimed his rifle squarely at Slade Farrow. Another flash came from The Shadow’s corner. The deputy dropped as a bullet clipped his shoulder.
Revolvers flashed as the beleaguered men leaped toward the door to meet the onrush of Caderly’s crew. Griff, dashing for the stairs, had shouted word to kill.
Police Chief Kerr was at the door, with Hawkeye beside him. Both were foemen to Griff’s frenzied deputies. Sworn to obey their leader, they were ready to fight the law as well as crime.
Guns barked. Chief Kerr staggered wounded. Hawkeye dropped a vigilante, while Farrow dragged the police chief back into the store room. Griff, from the stairs, was barking out new orders.
“Get them all!” he rasped. “Get that swag. Kerr has gone crooked! So has Granger!”
Then came shots from the end of the passage below the stairs. Vigilantes staggered as they reached the door of the store room. The Shadow had come through the little room. A dim shape at the end of the passage, he had opened fire.
Sprawling vigilantes failed to return The Shadow’s shots. Those behind them turned tail as the automatics thundered death. The invaders were backing up the stairway. A weird avenger, The Shadow came sweeping on their trail.
GRIFF knew what was happening. He leaped for Farrow’s office while he shouted to new men who were at the delivery door. In the office, Griff closed the door and grabbed the telephone. He called police headquarters.
Barking guns still sounded. The Shadow was on the stairs. His shots from the darkness were driving back the incoming vigilantes.
Griff could hear shots below. He knew that men whom The Shadow had scattered and wounded were making a vain resistance against Farrow’s band, following in The Shadow’s wake.
“Hello…” Griff gasped the word. “Rowling?… The jig is up… Yes… Farrow squealed… Stay there — I’m on my way.”
An automatic barked just outside the door. The Shadow was at the top of the stairs. Griff leaped to the window. It was barred. The brawny vigilante thrust an arm through the bars and with a mighty effort wrenched them from their fastenings. With a wild leap, he plunged through to the rear street.
The door of the office burst open. The Shadow, his eyes gleaming fiercely, saw the telephone, its receiver still off the hook. Beyond that, the unbarred window. The Shadow’s laugh was grim.
His emptied automatics disappeared beneath his cloak. Another pair replaced them. Turning, The Shadow swept back toward the delivery door. Standing there, he blazed two shots; then leaped into the darkened street.
Shots came from ahead. Griff’s henchmen were guarding their leader’s flight. The automatics replied. Weaving forward in the darkness, The Shadow was picking living targets, yet his own form remained unseen.
Rifles and revolvers were aimed each time his automatics blazed. But The Shadow was never there to receive the return shots. Vigilantes sprawled on the paving. Others fled as they heard their companions groan.
Police Chief Kerr had arrived at the top of the stairs. Though wounded, the chief was game. Norton Granger and Slade Farrow were beside him. Behind them were Farrow’s henchmen.
Vigilantes had smashed through the front of the clothing store. It was in this direction that Chief Kerr turned. He raised his right hand and shouted an order:
“Put down your guns! In the name of the law!”
A rifle crackled. The bullet skimmed Kerr’s shoulder. Other guns swung upward, aimed by vigilantes. A revolver barked beside Chief Kerr. Hawkeye grinned as his prompt shot downed the vigilante who had fired.
Skeets delivered shots. The ex-racketeer was a marksman. As Tapper and Farrow joined in the fray, the vigilantes broke and fled for the front street. Chief Kerr, unbalked by danger, dashed in pursuit.
OUT on the street, the official stood in plain view. He saw policemen across the street. He waved his hand in signal. That was sufficient. A distant vigilante fired. His bullet shattered the glass of the display window, close beside Kerr’s head.
Kerr’s policemen understood. Although outnumbered, they began a fray against the vigilantes. Kerr, standing openly upon the street, waved to Farrow and his henchmen. Springing to Kerr’s aid, Farrow’s reformed crooks joined the battle.
It was a fight against odds, with The Shadow no longer here to aid. The black-garbed master had cleared his way in pursuit of Eric Griffel. Once again, however, Chief Kerr was to owe his life to The Shadow. The master fighter had left two aids upon the scene.
Sniping vigilantes were aiming rifles to end Kerr’s career, as the daring police chief scorned all cover. From the window of the hotel room, Harry Vincent and Cliff Marsland opened fire on the would-be murderers.
Vigilantes scattered as members of their crew dropped to the street. Policemen leaped forward. Farrow and his henchmen deployed. Dave and Louie had joined the other three. Wild gunfire reigned.
Louie staggered wounded; so did Tapper. Two policemen fell. But a dozen vigilantes sprawled, a third of their number shot through the heart. Hawkeye and Skeets, amazing marksmen, were doing duty in the street. Harry and Cliff, firing from above, were doing their part to send the vigilantes scudding.