toll; but other loss would prove tremendous. Harlin found the foreman at the
telephone.
"I've called for ambulances!" gulped Steve. "Thanks, Mr. Harlin, for
hauling me back! I'd most certainly have jumped in there -"
The foreman buried his head in his hands; the supervisor found a chair.
"No use, those ambulances," he choked. "Not even hearses could find work
here, Steve! There'll be no bodies from that mess. They were swallowed alive,
Steve, lost in that steel! It happened - worse than I feared."
The clang of ambulances was already sounding. The wail of a huge siren was
rising from the steel works. As Steve arose and pressed open a window to relieve
the stifling atmosphere, he and Harlin could see the lights of automobiles
stopping on the highway that led into Hampstead.
Once again, stark terror had found this city of doom. The siren's wail; the
clang of bells; the shouts of men outside - all were proclaiming the horrendous
news.
Rescuers, yanking open a door, saw the seething spread of steel that
glistened in the glow of furnaces. They heard the calls of men who were isolated
in spots of safely - shouts that warned them to stay back and let the metal
cool.
The word passed in terrified tones. It stopped the arriving ambulances. It
came to squads of men from other portions of the plant and held them, in awed
groups, whispering the news of tragedy.
Those whispers reached the space where cars had pulled in from the highway.
Breathless men told others of the terror that had struck; how rescue would be
impossible for those who had felt the touch of living, burning steel.
WITHIN the window of a coupe, a silent listener caught those tragic
mutters. His eyes turned toward the building where the hellish stream had done
its work. The driver of that coupe had chanced to reach the outskirts of
Hampstead just as the steel plant's siren had broken loose with its banshee
screech of disaster.
A lone watcher among the throngs who huddled about the steel works - such
was the arrival in the coupe. Yet he, more than any other, held regret for the
tragedy that had occurred. He had come to Hampstead with a single mission: to
prevent disasters such as this. He had reached the town too late to halt the new
stroke of unexplainable deaths.
The silent watcher in the coupe was The Shadow. Master of crime detection,
he had divined the presence of an evil, unseen hand behind the horrors which had
come to Hampstead.
There was determination in the blaze of The Shadow's steady eyes. This
tragedy would be the last. No longer would destruction stalk through the city of
doom.
CHAPTER II
FROM THE DARK
Two hours had passed since the catastrophe at the steel plant. Lights were
