The Black Hush

CHAPTER XXV. OUT OF THE RAY

SWIFTLY, The Shadow acted. Here, from the observation platform of the Judruth Tower, he held a new and amazing vantage point. The black ray lay below him. Its conical projection formed a tapering tube of darkness that no eye could penetrate.

From below, that darkness could not be observed against the sky. But The Shadow saw it as a swath of black that obscured the lights of the city beneath its path. More than that, he could detect the starting point — a corner room two floors below!

Within the circle of the observation platform was the lounge room and the information desk. The door was close behind The Shadow’s form. Turning, the rays of a flashlight guiding his movement, The Shadow reached the telephone that connected the tower with the main floor of the building. An operator’s voice responded.

“Police headquarters,” ordered The Shadow.

The operator, hundreds of feet below, responded with trance-like precision. A call from the tower at this hour! A voice that sounded like the knell of doom.

The Shadow’s call was answered. In cold, steady tones, the man from above passed the startling word that brought news of unknown crime.

“Motor ship Garronic,” came The Shadow’s voice. “Attacked by gangsters in the harbor. Criminals aiding from post on ninety-third floor of Judruth Tower.”

That was all. The receiver was on the hook. Sweeping swiftly through the gloom, The Shadow reached the observation platform. With the abandon of a man seeking suicide, he vaulted the rail, poising his long form above the man-made chasm below!

The Shadow’s swing came to an abrupt stop as his body slid down the wall of the building, his hands using the cornice below the rail as a new gripping point. A mighty gust of wind swept the building, but its ferocious blast did not detach the clinging shape in black.

The decorated surfaces below the observation platform were The Shadow’s stepping-stones. Poised on the brink of oblivion, undeterred by the gale that sought to break his unerring-clutch, the black-clad master of the night began his death-defying descent.

A thousand feet of nothingness! Yet The Shadow was as calm as if he had been less than a yard above the ground. There were projections that he could grasp, and he found them in the darkness. Blotched against the surface of the uppermost heights which the Judruth Tower could boast, The Shadow was crawling like a beetle toward his goal — the ray of blackness that lay two floors below!

The Shadow had conquered smoother surfaces than this, but tonight, he fought with terrible hazards.

Speed was essential; and he acquired it, despite the menace of the terrific wind that whirled the folds of his cloak.

Then, as The Shadow poised above the window from which the blanketed ray extended, he performed a weird maneuver that brought his body sidewise on a level with that open spot.

Death yawned below. Enemies lay within. The Shadow paused. Was he planning to return to the only spot that afforded the slightest vestige of safety — the observation platform above? Only The Shadow knew; but others were soon to learn!

THERE were four men within the secret projection room tonight. Hector Fawcett was staring from the window, yet he could see but little, for the black ray swept close against the side. With Fawcett was the big shot, Goldy Tancred. Behind them stood Bowser Riggins, Goldy’s bodyguard.

In keeping with his promise, Goldy Tancred was supervising this end of the crime, while Clipper Hardigan did the work below. But the fourth member of the group was as important as anyone present.

In the darkness behind the glittering machine stood Hobbs, the operator.

Silently, this controller of the black ray awaited the orders that were to come. His hand was ready to lift the pall of the black hush at the end of the appointed time; ready, also, to restore it, should Hector Fawcett or Goldy Tancred give the word.

Deeming themselves safe from all attack, these fiends were gloating over crime which they were sure could never fail. The mighty ray of darkness that hurled forth the black hush had stilled action aboard the Garronic.

“We can’t be stopped tonight,” Hector Fawcett made the comment. “This is the job that can never fail.”

“Be ready, though,” advised Goldy Tancred. “Watch for the tugboats when we lift it. If they’re still close, give them more of the black.”

Bowser Riggins chuckled. As usual, he reflected the opinion of his chief, and Goldy Tancred had spoken in a tone of surety. Hobbs said nothing. Stolidly, this man who controlled the ray was performing his duty with the same perfection that he had employed before.

“Ten minutes,” announced Hector Fawcett. “That’s half the time they want. They’re getting what they’re after.”

“It’s a cinch.” commented Goldy. “Say — look at that black — the way it stretches out—”

Hector Fawcett laughed. He knew that Goldy Tancred was realizing the power of this ray. Blackness cutting within blackness, it made a weird and unbelievable spectacle.

“I never saw anything like it,” added Goldy. “Say — if anything ever came out of that black, you couldn’t see it until—”

The big shot’s sentence ended. A gasp came from his startled lips.

The cry caused Hector Fawcett to follow the direction of Goldy’s gaze. Bowser Riggins followed suit.

The three men of crime staggered backward in the face of a phenomenon more amazing than the shaft of gloom which they were viewing.

Out of the blackness came a living form. As if a portion of the black hush had detached itself from the steady, unerring ray, a creature of another world had materialized itself from that projected gloom.

Like a spirit of darkness, a tall form swung over the window ledge, and landed, in huddled shape, directly in front of the men who watched. Then, instead of a dwindled form, the sinister object stretched upward until it became the semblance of a tall, living being.

With a mighty spring, this weird monster leaped forward with outstretched arms, toward the three men.

Instinctively, the watchers broke for the sides of the room. Their cries caused Hobbs to see the object which had brought them ghastly fear. Grimly, the man at the black-ray machine faced this menace that had sprung from nowhere.

Through an opened window, nearly a thousand feet above the ground; from a formidable blackness that obliterated all objects in its path, had come the superman who had never yet failed in his combats with fiends of crime.

Out of the black ray — The Shadow!

His precipitous descent from the observation tower completed, the master of darkness had used the black shaft to his own advantage. It had furnished him the obscurity which he required to complete this weird attack.

The Shadow had arrived to take his foemen unawares. His objective was the glittering machine that evil brains had turned to the service of crime.

The hand of The Shadow was stretched forth to end the blackness that was now the aid of an attacking band. He was here — to fight the black hush at its very source!

Out of the ray — The Shadow!