The Shadow - The Sledge Hammer Crimes Part 16

A snarl from Greel. His fingers had reached the switch. They were quivering upon it. Daniel bolted through a window. Markham followed suit. Then stouter witnesses caved. Lettigue and Petersham hurdled to the safety of the outside ground.

Greel's fingers tugged. Weston and Cardona each chose a window. Cl.u.s.tered, the men outside could see the strange scene within. The Shadow was still inside the doorway. He had gauged Greel's strength. The inventor's hand was still trying to pull the switch.

A final snarl. Greel tugged; this time, his grip was certain. As the switch came down, The Shadow whirled. Greel, losing balance, toppled forward toward the dark-cloaked figure that was whirling toward the door.

The scene changed. Splintering crackles came from the walls and ceiling of Lettigue's weakened study.

Long flashes of light shot vividly, darting like streaks of man-made lightning.

The entire portion of the low-roofed wing collapsed. Plaster, beams; roofing-all came ripping, pouring into a ma.s.s of confused debris. From the midst of that shaken structure issued a hideous, dying scream that was m.u.f.fled by a cloud of rising dust.

Sanbrook Greel had sprung the death trap that he had designed for others. Hoping to take The Shadow to doom, the inventor had made his last convulsive effort. Those who saw the fearful finish stood huddled in the darkness behind Lettigue's house.

When lights had blinked off from the crash, they had seen The Shadow turning. Had he been overlong in his delay? None could tell.

Solemn men circled the house. Weston found his chauffeur standing beside the car. Shaken, thecommissioner asked the first question that came to mind.

"Where-where is Cranston?"

"I took him to the station, sir." The chauffeur stood puzzled. "Then I returned. What-what has happened, commissioner? I heard a fearful crash."

WESTON made no reply. Others had reached the car. A half-stunned group, they stood silent, as if listening for a token from the night. It came; a parting call that rescued men had hoped to hear.

From somewhere off beyond the hedge, a long, weird laugh. A sinister, trailing peal of mirth that carried a tone of solemnity. It was an outlandish knell; like a voice from another world, crying its strain above a murderer's tomb.

That laugh carried triumph. Though chilling, it brought confidence to men who had been saved from doom. It meant that their mysterious rescuer still roamed. Master of vengeance, The Shadow would gain future victories over men of crime.

He had timed his departure from the death room. Timed it to the ultimate second. Clear of the falling walls, The Shadow had traveled through the main portion of the house. He had gone his way; in parting, he had declared his final message to those who stood mute beside the house.

Spoils of a supercrook would be regained. False suspicions had been raised from innocent men. Justice had been done.

It was The Shadow's triumph.

THE END.