found himself confronted by servants who had been coming in by the vestibule.
They heard the shots; they saw The Shadow. Their conclusion was wrong, but it
did not help.
There was only one course for The Shadow: to shake off these misguided
opponents and leave the masked man to those in Aldriff's den.
AS for The Shadow's laugh, it was drowned by the sudden smashes within the
room itself. The masked man, finding his gun empty, was grabbing up the
furniture, and others were returning the favor. The darkness helped the
marauder, and be was making the most of it. The excited guests were mistaking
one another for the man they wanted to grab.
Chairs were smashed, ash stands flung, bookshelves overturned from the
wall. Hands seized the big mirror from in back of Aldriff's desk. As someone
cried: "There he goes!" the Florentine piece was hurled toward the chess nook,
across the prone body of Aldriff. The crash it made was terrific, glass breaking
in a series of smashes.
Joan, for one, dropped into a corner when she saw the mirror go. It missed
the masked man, for he suddenly dashed from beside the desk, carrying the box of
papers with him.
Nevlin grabbed at him, like a terrier worrying a fox. In his desperate
flight, the masked man forgot the importance of the box he carried, for he
turned and flung it at Nevlin's head. Another man sprang from the depths of the
room and grabbed the marauder near the doorway.
They looked as though they were playing leapfrog when they went out through
the hallway, with Nevlin close behind them, yelling for the rest to come.
Meanwhile, The Shadow had whipped into the vestibule, carrying the
attacking servants with him. He wanted darkness, so they wouldn't remember him
too well, and he preferred space where he could deal with them lightly. There
were only three of them, and they showed no skill at cooperation.
The Shadow tripped one going down the steps to the side door. Clutching
another, he slammed him hard against the third, who fell away. The second man
managed to preserve his grip and tighten it, but The Shadow settled that matter,
a short way from the house.
With a sudden drop, a back flip, and a well-planted foot, he sent the tough
servant off on a triple somersault across the lawn.
On his feet again, The Shadow made for the hedge, gave a defiant laugh and
crashed into the branches, only to wheel away again. The rallying servants took
the bait and went plunging through the hedge themselves, shouting to each other
as they reached the next yard.
While the servants were surrounding something imaginary, The Shadow sped
back to the house.
HE didn't expect the masked man to be loose, but supposed that if he had
managed a lucky escape, he would flee by the front door of the sun porch. For if
he knew the vestibule route, the marauder should have used it in the first
place. So The Shadow rounded toward the front of the house, where he heard
shouts coming from arriving cars.
People were dashing in through the front door; others, seeing where they
