to know why the fugitives weren't shooting back. His quick foray toward the
truck was accompanied by vigilance.
He was telling the taut-nerved driver to veer away the instant he received
the command. So far, The Shadow had managed to pick "outs" the very instant that
mobster guns talked.
This time it wasn't necessary.
Though the cab wheeled almost to the rear of the fugitive truck, no shots
came from the armored vehicle.
Inspired by The Shadow's example, the police cars made a spurt. They saw
the cab make a sudden swing, as though to dodge a coming gunfire; but no shots
occurred. The swerve sent the cab jouncing on to the tree-lined sidewalk across
the boulevard from the canal, but the police cars continued the chase.
Apparently, the crooks were out of ammunition, and had simply bluffed by
poking guns from the rear of the truck. Such wasn't the actual case however.
The reason The Shadow ordered the cab's veer was because he saw no guns at all!
AS soon as the police cars had whizzed past, the forgotten cab backed from
the sidewalk, bounced over the curb and turned around, to speed back toward
Miami Beach.
As the sounds of police sirens dwindled, The Shadow laughed. He could
anticipate the surprise that the Miami Beach police would find.
It came when the armored truck jerked to a necessary stop at the raised
drawbridge on the Venetian Way. The police piled from their cars and reached
the truck, dodging its dangerous rear door.
They saw a scared driver at the wheel, both hands raised. He lowered one
when the officers beckoned, and opened the front door. Springing into the
truck, the police found it empty.
Murk Wessel and the remaining members of his picked crew were gone, to a
man, and the coffers containing millions had vanished with them!
Shakily, the driver was explaining things. Gunmen had told him to keep
looking ahead. Generally, they had said: "Keep going!" But occasionally they
had ordered halts, when a hiding policy seemed preferable. He remembered that
the last stop had been somewhere near one of the many canals that made a
veritable Venice of the western section of Miami Beach.
They'd told him to wait about a minute and then start for the boulevard,
to head straight for Miami. He had an idea that they'd gone out the rear of the
truck during that wait, but he hadn't been too sure. He'd feared that at least
one lurking crook had stayed on board, to make sure instructions were obeyed.
By the time the truck driver reached that stage of his story, the cops
were no longer interested. They realized how they had been duped. Murk and his
tribe had dropped off, swag and all, to take a water route, sending the police
along on a blind chase!
Only The Shadow had guessed the ruse. Alone, he was returning in the cab
that he had commandeered to hunt down Murk's band of murderers. Why The Shadow
had undertaken that quest single-handed, was soon to be proven.
Recalling the most likely spot where mobsters could have disembarked from
the armored truck, The Shadow was guiding the cab driver to it. They reached a
park, where the moonlight glimmered on the waters of a curving canal - one of
those serpentine waterways where aquaplaners frequently disported for the
