HIS own gun ready, The Shadow held a bead on the masked man, as the latter
reached the open door of Aldriff's den. A single spurt from The Shadow's .45
might have sprawled the masked menace on the hallway floor. But the chance was
not a certainty.
The masked man was dealing with bolder customers than those who had first
cringed from his gun.
Joan and Nevlin were backing through the doorway, side by side, and both
showed reluctance. A single misstep on the masked man's part, and one or the
other - perhaps both - would be grabbing for the threatening gun. The Shadow
could not risk a shot that might be intercepted by a wrong target...
He let the three go through the doorway; as they went, the masked man was
between the others, actually using his gun to prod Joan and Nevlin. As soon as
they were in the room, The Shadow took swift strides from the vestibule,
intending to challenge the masked man from the doorway of the den.
One look into the room in question revealed that such a move would still be
dangerous to innocent lives.
The masked man had actually moved into the group itself. He was at the
desk, clamping one hand on a box of papers that lay there. He'd overstepped
himself, but had corrected the mistake in time. Half turned, he was swinging his
gun, motioning persons back. His voice gave an ugly croak.
"So Aldriff got rid of himself." The words came through the draped
handkerchief that hid the masked man's lips. "I had a good idea he'd do it.
That's why I came for these."
He rattled the papers in the box; narrowed his eyes through the slits in
the handkerchief.
"I'm taking this box with me," he announced. "Anybody that wants to keep
Aldriff company can try to stop me!"
A threatening sweep of his gun and the masked marauder was turning toward
the doorway, where he was certain to be stopped, in a very permanent fashion,
the moment he crossed its threshold. The nose of an automatic was like a magnet
in The Shadow's fist, actually about to draw its prey.
All the people in the room were dropping back, with hands well raised, Joan
and Nevlin included. The girl's eyes were snapping furiously, but there wasn't a
thing that she could do.
Nevlin's gaze, though nervous, showed an opposite impression. Half behind
Aldriff's desk, Nevlin was in the right place to accomplish something, and he
knew it.
Nevlin's foot was out of sight when it hooked the cord of the desk lamp.
Faking a cringe away from the masked man's gun, the secretary took a long back
step with almost the speed of a kick. It pulled the cord and the lamp came with
it, jumping the edge of the desk and crashing to the floor.
The masked man was lunging at Nevlin as the lamp struck, and the secretary
was ducking behind the desk. Others were grabbing for the marauder; his gun,
when it spouted, sent its shots upward.
It was shooting so fast that its bullets were exhausted in mere seconds,
and The Shadow, rather than disturb the wild aim, waited where he was until they
finished.
Then, with a laugh that promised a quick capture, The Shadow started a
lunge into the fray. The laugh was not heard, nor was the lunge completed.
Hands grabbed The Shadow from the hallway. Wheeling in their clutch, he
