The Cobra

CHAPTER XVII THE SHADOW’S SKILL

THE SHADOW’S turn had come. That looming automatic, thrust through a shattered glass, was a weapon that could mean The Cobra’s woe. The Shadow had gained his opportunity to cover The Cobra and demand the strange rival to reveal his purposes.

But the desired meeting held one flaw. To deal with The Cobra, The Shadow would have had to disregard the safety of his agent, Cliff Marsland. Diamond Rigler, vicious and frenzied, had finger on revolver trigger. He was about to loose the shot that would mean Cliff Marsland’s life.

The Shadow’s automatic thundered in the confines of the room. The flash of flame was not directed toward The Cobra. Its spurt was made toward Diamond Rigler. There was not time to stop that pressing trigger; Shadow’s bullet accomplished its appointed end.

Diamond Rigler’s body twisted as his hand fired. Sprawled by The Shadow’s shot, Diamond’s aim went wide. A bullet splintered the door a foot above Cliff Marsland’s head.

Deliberately, The Shadow had given opportunity to The Cobra. The black-clad arrival was risking his own life to save that of Cliff Marsland. As The Shadow dropped Diamond Rigler, The Cobra wheeled. His warning hiss came as he aimed point-blank and fired at The Shadow.

A fighter who worked in split seconds, The Shadow had foreseen this quick reply. Even while he fired at Diamond Rigler, The Shadow was working to thwart The Cobra’s aim. His black form was dropping as the automatic spoke. Eyes and right hand fell from view while the left hand slid down the vertical bar which it gripped.

The Cobra’s shot, aimed for The Shadow’s eyes, whistled through the top of the slouch hat and zimmed on into space.

The Cobra aimed a second shot. This one was for the hand that clutched the bar. Again, The Cobra was a split second late. The Shadow had caught the window ledge with his right hand. His left dropped as The Cobra pressed the trigger. A bullet from The Cobra’s revolver clanged the upright bar which The Shadow’s hand had left.

The roaring gunplay had brought Cliff Marsland to his senses. Leaning against the wall, The Shadow’s agent was pulling his automatic from his pocket. As The Cobra’s gun delivered another futile bark, Cliff aimed for the grotesque figure in brown.

SOMEHOW, The Cobra sensed the menace. He wheeled. Cliff fired hastily; his shot went wide. The Cobra did not fire in response. He had no time for aim, as Cliff was steadying for a second shot. Still whirling, The Cobra gained the anteroom, just in time.

With the bark of Cliff’s gun, The Shadow had reappeared beyond the window. His automatic, resting at the bottom of the bars, with his blazing eyes beside the muzzle, loosed new fire just as The Cobra leaped from view. Only the projecting edge of the doorway saved The Cobra in his flight.

Cliff, still a trifle dazed, missed a second shot; then clambered to his feet. With automatic in hand, he dashed across the anteroom. The Cobra had taken the elevator to the lobby below.

Cliff hurried back into the living room. The Shadow was gone from the window. Cliff stood looking at the bodies on the floor. Duster Corbin — Diamond Rigler — both were dead. The form of King Zobell lay slumped in its chair.

This was one of those emergencies in which The Shadow relied upon his agents to use their own ability. The Shadow had saved Cliff’s life. He had balked The Cobra. The Shadow’s rival was in flight.

The iron bars, set in the wall beyond the window, were a barrier that would have taken too long to break. Cliff realized that The Shadow, forced to depart by the precarious way up to the roof, would be delayed.

It was, furthermore, unwise for Cliff to remain. He saw how he could aid The Shadow! There was still time to bring up the elevator and descend to the street before The Shadow could arrive there. Cliff had a slender chance to trail The Cobra.

Dashing back to the elevator shaft, Cliff pressed the button to raise the car. He entered the lift and descended. He hurried through the lobby to the street. As he paused there, he fancied that he heard the distant sound of a police whistle, off in back of the apartment building.

A cab was standing by the curb, Cliff approached the driver. The man reached to open the door.

“See anyone come out of the apartment house?” queried Cliff.

“Yeah,” returned the driver, gruffly. “A funny looking guy—”

“Which way did he go?”

“Grabbed a cab that was down the street. Pulled out toward the avenue and—”

“Get going. See if you can catch him.”

Cliff bounded into the cab as he spoke. The driver slammed the door. As Cliff leaned through the front window, the cab jerked away from the curb. It shot toward the corner.

Something moved in the darkness of the cab. Cliff turned, startled, as he heard a hiss beside him. He was staring squarely into the muzzle of a revolver; behind it, luminous in the gloom, loomed the painted hood of The Cobra.

CLIFF rolled against the door as the cab whirled the corner. The form of The Cobra fell upon him. A cloth was pressed over Cliff’s face. The pungent odor of chloroform was overpowering. Cliff slumped helpless.

The Cobra had tricked The Shadow’s agent. The man at the wheel of this cab was one of his trusted fangs. Lurking in the taxi, The Cobra had been ready to trap Cliff should he arrive in pursuit.

Rescued by The Shadow, Cliff had thrown himself into the net. He was a prisoner of The Cobra!

As the cab passed around the corner, a figure appeared at the door of the apartment building. The Shadow had arrived. Up to the roof; across and down through an apartment window, he had come in pursuit. He was too late to see the fleeing cab. Yet his keen eyes seemed to sense what had occurred.

Another whistle — this time from the avenue. A reply — at the other end of the street. A whistle from the back of the apartment house. Police had heard the shots from high up in the building. They, too, had arrived.

The Shadow sprang from the doorway. His tall form swept forward like a phantom figure as he headed for a passage beside a garage across the street. Shots came from the corner. An officer raised a shout. Policemen dashed up to the scene. They were too late. The Shadow had disappeared.

With swift strokes from the darkness, The Shadow had broken The Cobra’s power. Fighting from disadvantage, he had thwarted the killing of Cliff Marsland and had driven The Cobra into flight.

But The Cobra, realizing his own advantage, had used cunning when he fled. He had slain King Zobell as he had intended. He had left Duster Corbin dead. His own man — Diamond Rigler — had been blotted; but in return, The Cobra had captured the man whom he had sought to slay with the others: Cliff Marsland.

The underworld would never know of The Shadow’s counter-stroke. New credit would be The Cobra’s. Defeated, The Cobra had turned events to his own advantage. The Shadow, as at Old Growdy’s, had been left to face the arrival of the police.

Far from the apartment house where bluecoats now had charge, a grim laugh sounded in the darkness of a silent street. It was not a laugh of defeat; it was a laugh of determination. The laugh of The Shadow!

Whatever opinions might be formed, The Shadow knew the vital facts — and The Cobra knew them also. Let the underworld gasp in awe about The Cobra’s prowess; let them deride The Shadow. Such did not alter the facts.

The Shadow’s skill had prevailed. Only circumstances had aided The Cobra. The serpent-hooded fighter had been forced to flee The Shadow’s might. War had broken between these two whom gangdom feared as grim avengers.

Once again, the advantage lay with The Cobra. The Shadow’s task was heightened. Yet through his skill, The Shadow had forced the issue.

Whatever The Cobra’s plans might be, The Shadow remained to block them. Until he could fully frustrate The Shadow, The Cobra would be forced to inactivity.

Tonight had brought the two in definite conflict. Their trails — supposedly parallel — were drawing closer. Another event such as this one would bring them face-to-face.

That was the reason for The Shadow’s laugh. It betokened safety for Cliff Marsland. It presaged another meeting with The Cobra. It indicated secret knowledge of the hooded fighter’s ways and purposes.

The Shadow had good reason to wage combat with The Cobra. The Shadow had divined the hidden goal which The Cobra was seeking through his warfare on gangland’s big shots!

The time would come soon when The Cobra would again be forced to match his keen strategy against The Shadow’s skill!