Gray Fist

CHAPTER XV GRAY FIST’S ANSWER

A SIBILANT sound whispered through the living room. Ruggles Preston cowered as he heard The Shadow’s laugh. Mere moments had transformed the crooked lawyer from a suave, persuasive gentleman into a shaking wretch.

The nonchalance that had served Preston well during his conversation with Cardona was a lacking factor since The Shadow had arrived. This menace from the dark — a being who had entered from the wall outside the window — was one with which Preston could not cope.

The blazing eyes, the soft, taunting laugh — these were the proofs that The Shadow knew the truth of Preston’s game. Where Joe Cardona had considered the lawyer as one who might aid the way of justice, The Shadow knew Preston for what he really was — a minion of Gray Fist.

Preston, despite his pretense to respectability, was well acquainted with the ways of the underworld. He knew the power of The Shadow. He had congratulated himself that he would probably never encounter this formidable foe. The arrival of The Shadow had reduced him to a state of terror.

The pause that followed the dying echoes of The Shadow’s laugh was as impressive as the sardonic mockery. Then came a new manifestation of this stalwart being’s power. With even, whispered tones, The Shadow brought the accusation that Ruggles Preston expected.

“I am here,” declared The Shadow, in a scoffing sneer, “to learn the facts that you know. I have come to hear of your dealings with Gray Fist.”

The final words were hissed. Preston crouched back against the wall beside the desk, and raised his hands to shut off sight of the weird avenger who stood before him. The effort was futile. Preston’s hands trembled. His eyes stared into the hidden space below the brim of the black hat. The blazing eyes of The Shadow shone like luminous orbs. They held Preston captive with their spell.

“Speak.”

The single word was sufficient as it hissed from The Shadow’s lips. Preston could not withstand the dominating power of this master. He gasped forth his confession.

“I–I’ll tell you everything.” The lawyer licked his parched lips. “It — it was Seth Cowry who made me work for Gray Fist. Seth Cowry, the racketeer. He’s dead—”

The Shadow laughed as Preston paused. The lawyer realized that The Shadow knew Cowry had died. That realization prompted Preston to new haste in his confession.

“Cowry could have made trouble for me,” he pleaded. “He — he offered me safety — and money — if I would serve Gray Fist. My work was to watch the men whom Gray Fist had forced to serve him. Worth Varden was one.”

“Go on,” ordered The Shadow.

THE words indicated that The Shadow knew all that Preston had said. The lawyer was still stimulated to continue with the truth.

“I went to see Varden,” he confessed. “I brought in gangsters who pretended they were detectives. They lured Varden away. I–I think they must have killed him. I do not know. They took his papers. I planted a forged statement.

“It — it was Snakes Blakey who did it. He’s the one who sees Gray Fist. Cowry used to be the go-between. He knew too much. Snakes had him killed by mobsters. I get orders from Snakes. I give my reports to him. He sees Gray Fist.”

“Who is Gray Fist?”

The Shadow’s sibilant question was timed at the moment of Preston’s greatest weakness. It brought a pitiful, truthful gasp from the cornered lawyer.

“I don’t know!” pleaded Preston. “I don’t know!”

“You are watching others,” announced The Shadow. “They, like Varden, are dupes of Gray Fist. I want their names.”

For the first time, Preston hesitated. The Shadow followed with another order.

“Give me the list,” he commanded. “It is in your desk.”

Preston gasped. He did not realize that he had been talking of such a list when Cardona had left; that he had glanced toward the desk immediately after the detective’s departure. The Shadow had heard; The Shadow had seen. The Shadow knew.

With a hopeless effort, Preston clutched the side of the desk. He had a wild desire to try to conceal the actual spot where the list was hidden.

The thought faded as Preston viewed The Shadow’s burning eyes. With hands that shook so he could scarcely control them, Preston slid back the slide and pulled the list from its hiding place. He held the paper toward The Shadow. A gloved hand plucked it from the lawyer’s grasp.

As Preston stared, he could see the burning eyes focused straight above the sheet of paper. The Shadow was watching while he read. There was no chance for Preston to make a break. Instinctively, however, the lawyer cowered along the wall, hoping that The Shadow’s vigil might release.

A dozen names appeared upon the list that The Shadow scanned. They were the names of prominent men, arranged in alphabetical order. The name of Worth Varden was at the bottom of the list. It, alone, had been blue-penciled. That was significant. It brought a soft, chuckling laugh from the throat of The Shadow.

“You have watched all these?”

Preston laid his hand against the wall as he heard The Shadow’s question. He nodded weakly.

“Who beside Varden,” came The Shadow’s cold tone, “has been marked for death?”

“None,” gasped Preston.

The Shadow knew that the lawyer spoke the truth. He saw that Gray Fist’s plans of crime had just begun. Worth Varden was the only victim who had tried to escape his clutch. These others were slated to aid Gray Fist in schemes of evil. Again, The Shadow scanned the list.

“Tell me,” he ordered, “the hold that Gray Fist has upon these men.”

“I do not know,” returned Preston. “My duty has been to watch. I know only that they are in his power — like myself — like Varden—”

THE SHADOW’S laugh came as an eerie interruption. The sheet of paper fluttered from his hand. It seemed to project itself across the floor toward Ruggles Preston. Stooping timidly, the lawyer picked it up.

For a moment, he rose in challenging attitude; then the sight of The Shadow’s looming automatic reduced him to a new state of hopeless terror. Backing toward the window, Preston waited, fearing the next move that his terrible captor might ordain.

“You are Gray Fist’s dupe,” decided The Shadow, in his whispering tone. “Yet your name does not appear upon the list. Those men are to be aided, not condemned. You, however, are a henchman as well as a dupe.

“I shall investigate those men, now that I hold their names within my brain. I shall free them from the power of Gray Fist. It will be your task to aid me. If not in life, in death!”

The Shadow’s ultimatum was an unreal whisper that echoed fiercely through Ruggles Preston’s brain. The weird words were like projected thoughts that burned their way to understanding. With those words, Ruggles Preston felt the mastery of the new being that dominated him. Fears of Gray Fist were fading before the presence of The Shadow.

Yet, as he clutched the list of names nervously between his grasping hands, Preston felt a last surge of recollection. He had served Gray Fist — a terrible master whom he had never seen. Perhaps it was an instinctive desire to test the greater power of The Shadow that caused Preston to rise beside the window and snarl wordlessly before he accepted his new servitude.

The lawyer’s profile was by the window. The look on his face was hideous. Evil at heart, Preston could not veil his thoughts. It was when he stared into the challenging eyes of The Shadow that his false courage faded. Preston’s look of venom faded. Horror harrowed his features. His body shook; his lips trembled as his visage blanched.

“I accept!” cried the lawyer. “I shall no longer serve Gray Fist! You are my master. You — you — The Shadow—”

Preston’s voice had risen to a hoarse scream. It was the frantic utterance that came from uncontrolled lips. As the lawyer stood framed in the opened window, all the agony of his heart was visible.

“I–I shall serve The Shadow—”

These were the final words that Ruggles Preston cried. As he delivered them, a bursting roar of gunfire came from the roof beyond the lawyer’s window. Clutching his list close to his body, Ruggles Preston tumbled forward, dead!

Cries sounded from outside. They were answered by shouts from the corridors within the apartment house. Ruggles Preston had shouted his new peonage to the world. Listeners had heard it. A watching sniper had fired the shot that had ended Preston’s life.

One more man had become a burden to Gray Fist. A menace to the plotter’s plans, Ruggles Preston had paid the price. This was Gray Fist’s answer to The Shadow!