Henshew had the chance he wanted: to shoot it out with The Shadow. Like Shark. Henshew was lucky not to try. He did a dive of his own, back into the apartment.
If The Shadow had been dealing with Henshew and Shark alone, he could have finished the conspirators with ease. There were others, though, with whom The Shadow had no quarrel; and as luck had it, they were allying themselves against him. The bluecoats were leaping from the elevator. The Shadow had to get away from them.
WHEELING, The Shadow met one patrolman and shoved his gun hand upward. The other fired, but his bullet was wild, for he did not want to clip his companion.
The Shadow heaved the first officer toward the second, tangling them for the moment. The move carried him away from the passage to the stairway.
That was unfortunate. Men in the hall were blazing shots. They were springing forward to battle the dim figure that bobbed so swiftly. The elevator man pounced for The Shadow. The fellow went sprawling from a quick thrust; with a sudden turn, The Shadow made for the stairs.
Shouts greeted him. Apartment attendants were arriving, two more officers with them. Again, there was Henshew's shout:
"Get him! The man in black!"
Guns blazed as The Shadow cut through the rear of Henshew's apartment. Men came through to cut him off; The Shadow began to spill them. One was Henshew; The Shadow took a terrific slug at the crook's skull. Another man's arm intervened. Henshew dived away.
Shark was at the doorway. He aimed for The Shadow. Quickly, The Shadow blazed shots at the killer.
Again, grabbing arms spoiled his aim; but Shark did a duck when bullets ripped the door frame beside him. Safe though the fight might be for others, it was bad business for Henshew or Shark to seek battle with The Shadow.
The net result was badly against The Shadow. His pass at Henshew, his shots at Shark, seemed proof that he must be a raiding criminal. Lashing back and forth through Henshew's gloomy dining room, The Shadow was hard pressed by fighters who tried to down him with clubs and guns. Only the press of numbers helped The Shadow; for the amateur brawlers were getting in the way of police guns.
Piling one man upon another, The Shadow suddenly cleared a path; but it led only to the window.
He went through the frame, glass and all, with a crash that seemed to head him for the street below. The Shadow was counting upon an outside cornice that he had used before. He clutched it; swung down and gained a window of the floor below.
Even then, The Shadow's path was not clear. Police had arrived in the rear street; they were piling up into the apartment house.
Shouts were given by pursuers who raced to the floor beneath Henshew's. They saw The Shadow on the stairway, as he came through. Cut off one floor above the street level, The Shadow took to another apartment. He reached a window and crawled along a wider ledge, to reach the corner of the building.
THOUGH The Shadow had chosen the most obscure direction and had slipped completely from sight, he had reached a limit. He could gain nothing by traveling farther, and retreat was hopeless.
Searchers were all along the street. Lights were appearing at windows. Congregating police were scouring all parked cars. They stopped a taxi; its driver backed it into a little passage by the corner of the apartment house.
"Anybody try to get into this cab, bud?"
"Nobody." The voice was Moe's. "Any harm in my staying here?"
"Not if you don't mind us looking in and out of your hack. If you want to go chasing fares, you'd better get started."
Moe had stalled the motor. He jockeyed with the starter, hoping that he might catch some flash from The Shadow, wherever his chief was.
As cops shifted into the passage, Moe heard a low, sibilant whisper, that seemed to come from somewhere above. An officer hurried back with the question:
"Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
The policeman looked around, saw no one. Moe started the motor and reached above his head. Moe's cab was of the latest type, with the sliding top that opened above the rear seat, in sunny weather. He slid the roof space wide. As the cab moved slowly forward, a figure swished from the ledge just above it.
Though the landing was a light one, Moe felt the slight jar. He swung the cab out into the street and drove away. Officers who had looked into the taxi allowed it to pass.
Meanwhile, another hand was sliding the roof shut. The last-minute passenger was obscured in the interior darkness. Moe heard the low whisper of The Shadow, ordering him where to drive.
The cab went past the last searchers, just as lights shone from the apartment house window, at the very corner where The Shadow had been.
Henshew's apartment was deserted except for two men. One was Henshew; Shark was with him. Shark had started to join the searchers in their hunt for The Shadow. It was Henshew who held him back. As they stood by a window, Henshew gave advice that Shark heard in the darkness.
"You can't get by with it, Shark. You've got to get out of here! Pick a new hideaway."
"But The Shadow's making a getaway, chief -"
"He's made it!" Henshew's tone was rueful. "Those dubs will never bag him. What's more, he's grabbed the jewels!"
Shark greeted that news with an ugly oath. Henshew was cooler. The master-crook was thinking ahead.
"The game's through, Shark," he said. "We could call it quits if we still had the gems."
"You'll never get those sparklers from The Shadow."
"Perhaps not." Henshew's tone was speculative. "He might drop them somewhere. If he does, I can reclaim them. If not -"
Henshew paused. Shark knew that an idea was due. He heard Henshew's low, gritted laugh.
"We can get something better," declared Henshew. "Leave it to me, Shark. I've got a plan for a final clean-up that will make up for the gems and give us cash besides. One that The Shadow will never guess is coming, after this."
HENSHEW nudged Shark out to the stairway. On the way, Shark told him where the new hide-out would be. He said, though, that he was not going straight there. It would be better to shake off any bulls who might encounter him on the way. Henshew approved.
"You'd better show yourself, Shark," he said, "so there'll be no doubt that you were here. That will give me the alibi I need. Remember, though, The Shadow knows a lot. If you run into him -"
"I'll croak him!" Shark showed new boldness. "And if I find any other guy that looks wise, I'll do the same for him. Count on me, chief. If you've got another job all figured, I'm for it."
Shark went down the stairs. He saw a clear path through the lobby, with taxis on the front street. The chase had not caused commotion there. That was what Shark wanted. He made a dash through to the front, leaped into a cab and shoved a gun against the driver's neck. The cab started in a hurry.
Arriving police saw Shark and recognized him in the light; but he was away before they could halt him.
Shark abandoned the cab a few blocks away and jumped aboard a parked coupe of his own. He had a long start on the patrol cars that followed.
Moe's cab, meanwhile, had reached the hotel where Kent Allard was a guest. Commissioner Weston's big official car had just pulled up in front when the cab rounded the corner. The Shadow dropped off at the place he wanted. He had counted on Weston being a trifle late.
When Weston and Clyde Burke were admitted to the suite by one of the Xinca servants, Kent Allard appeared sleepily from a bedroom. He was attired in a dressing gown; but he became alert as he shook hands with his visitors. He invited them to stay an hour or so.
The visit, however, proved a very brief one.