Luskin’s eyes were approving as they studied Dirk. Engaged in studying his companion, Luskin did not glance behind as the cab pulled from the curb. Hence he did not note the activity which occurred further down the block.
An old sedan pulled away from darkness by the old Majestic Theater. A few seconds later, a rakish touring car started from another spot. These two automobiles took up the trail of the cab which carried Luskin and Dirk Halgan.
Back near the corner, a young man was seated behind the wheel of a coupe. His hand was on the gear shift lever; his eyes were watching toward the curb. This was Harry Vincent, agent of The Shadow, delegated to this duty. He was awaiting the arrival of Cliff Marsland. Harry had received a call from Burbank. Already uptown, Harry had gained this spot ahead of Cliff.
Harry shoved the car in gear, realizing that he could wait no longer. A man, swinging from the passers on the sidewalk, caught the handle of the door. It was Cliff Marsland. The underworld agent had arrived just in time to join Harry. He boarded the coupe and Harry started after the cars ahead.
The coupe reached the avenue ahead. It shot across just as the light was turning. A larger coupe, coming up the avenue, made a sudden swerve and followed Harry’s car. A strange, whispered laugh sounded in the dark interior.
The driver who had uttered that short burst of mirth was hidden in the gloom. His eerie tones, however, were sufficient pronouncement of his identity. The driver was The Shadow.
SWIFT master of action, The Shadow had dispatched his agents to the scene immediately upon receiving word from Burbank. His own location must have been more distant. Instead of coming up the avenue near where the pursuit had begun, he had taken the one ahead, knowing that he might intercept the chase should it have already begun.
Harry Vincent’s coupe had passed the next avenue. It was half a block behind the cars which it was trailing; The Shadow was a similar interval behind Harry. Watching from the wheel of his coupe, Harry saw the taxi making a turn to the right. Reaching to the dashboard, Harry clicked the light switch twice.
Cliff Marsland made no comment. He assumed that this was a signal ordered through Burbank; that Harry had been instructed to mark the turns which the cars ahead might make. Cliff’s assumption was correct.
The Shadow, almost at the avenue behind, saw the double flicker of the tail light on Harry’s coupe. With a quick swerve, he swung his heavy car to the right, going down the nearer avenue just as the traffic lights were changing.
The motor roared as The Shadow’s coupe took the straightaway. The heavy car showed a remarkable burst of speed. Green ahead — as he passed the first cross street, The Shadow laughed. Glancing to the left, he had seen the cab passing the same street on the further avenue, a block away.
The pointer on the speedometer shot up to sixty. Across two streets; then, as a traffic opening showed on the left, The Shadow applied the brakes. The big coupe half-skidded and sped across the path of an oncoming truck; a hidden foot pressed the accelerator and the sturdy car roared down the side street.
A red light showed ahead. The Shadow took a right turn. His eyes gleamed as they peered toward the mirror. The soft laugh again sounded from his lips. By rapid maneuver and swift pace, The Shadow had passed all the cars that formed the caravan. He was ahead of the taxicab which mobsters had chosen for their quarry.
With slackened speed, The Shadow kept ahead. His eyes were on the mirror. They were watching the cab, now nearly a block to the rear. The avenue lights changed from green to red. The taxi took a left turn. The Shadow glimpsed the sedan that swung behind it. He, too, turned left, one street ahead. His was a two-way thoroughfare.
AGAIN, the coupe showed its speed. The Shadow knew that the one-way street which the taxi had taken might mark the end of the quest. He picked an avenue which ran beneath the superstructure of the elevated. A red light gleamed; The Shadow swung left at high speed.
Brakes screamed as cars swerved to avoid the coupe which shot across their path. The Shadow’s firm hand whisked the coupe past an elevated pillar and swung it clear of a parked car.
The Shadow reached the next street ahead of oncoming traffic. Another breakneck turn to the left. The coupe made a complete U turn and came to a stop facing down the avenue.
Like a phantom shape, The Shadow glided from the car. His form seemed a fleeting patch of darkness as it gained the walls of buildings that fronted on this avenue. Two seconds later, he had reached the corner. His tall shape merged with the blackness of the side street.
Clad in cloak and hat of sable hue, The Shadow had demonstrated his mysterious ability to travel under cover of the night. His uncanny intuition was also in evidence. Less than a block away, the taxicab which he sought was pulling up to the curb. The Shadow had picked the secluded block which had been chosen by men of crime.
IN the cab, Dirk Halgan was speaking in deliberate fashion. The easy speed of the cab, coupled with Dirk’s friendly tone, had completely eliminated all suspicion from Luskin’s mind.
“Here’s where we get out,” remarked Dirk. “Step to the curb — I’ll be with you.”
Luskin rose to obey. He opened the door beside him. His foot descended to the sidewalk. The taxi driver was looking over his shoulder. A fake cabby; he had been deputed to this job; he was awaiting Dirk Halgan’s order.
“All right, Jake,” came Dirk’s whisper. “Get ready—”
The driver’s hand was on the gear shift lever. Then, like a living avalanche, a blackened figure seemed to spring from the sidewalk. A pair of arms caught Luskin and hurled his form back into the cab. Before Jake, the gangster driver, could start the taxi, the fighter from the dark was upon him.
“The Shadow!”
Jake blurted the name as a swift fist swung toward his jaw. The gloved hand of The Shadow clipped the fake cab driver on the chin. Flinging himself backward to escape the blow, Jake was lifted clear from the wheel. Senseless, he went sprawling backward to the street.
Dirk Halgan, jounced back by Luskin’s quick return to the cab, was yanking a revolver from his pocket when he heard Jake’s gasp. The gangster’s hand came upward. His finger pressed the trigger as he fired toward the blackness of the front seat.
The shot was wild. As it crashed the windshield, Dirk could see the head and shoulders of The Shadow by the flame from the revolver. The gangster had fired a foot to the left of his mark. He swung to deliver a second bullet. It never left his gun.
An automatic thundered within the cab. The Shadow’s prompt reply performed its work. Dirk Halgan slumped sidewise, against the left door of the cab.
A hand from the dark seized Luskin’s shoulder and pressed the saved man to the floor of the cab. A fierce, whispered voice hissed its order:
“Stay where you are! You will be safe!”
In quick seconds of action, The Shadow had nullified the scheme for Luskin’s death. Instead of the doomed man being left upon the sidewalk, an open target for approaching killers, he was lying within the cab, protected by The Shadow!
The touring car shot up beside the cab. The would-be murderers knew that something had happened. Two mobsmen bounded to the street as the driver shot the glare of a bull’s-eye lantern toward the taxi.
The brilliance showed The Shadow. Leaning from beside the wheel, the master fighter was ready with his automatics. As the light gleamed, he fired. The driver groaned as the lantern was shattered in his hand.