The Silent Death

CHAPTER IV. THE SHADOW ARRIVES

ALL was a blur before Alfred Sartain’s weakening eyes. The doomed millionaire was staring toward the ceiling. As Professor Urlich had divined, Sartain’s eyes were upon the closed skylight. Through Sartain’s hopeless brain were running those very thoughts that the fiendish scientist had declared as probable.

Through that barrier lay the last chance for safety. Sartain knew now that he might have tried the skylight first. Yet he completely lacked the slightest vestige of strength that might have enabled him to undertake the task.

Through the skylight! If the heavy glass would only break; if it would only open! It was impossible, Sartain knew, yet as he felt the creeping power of death, the millionaire instinctively gazed toward that one way of hope.

Black spots danced before his eyes. The glass of the skylight seemed faded and obscure. Steady gasps came from the doomed man’s lips. Then they broke into one amazed pant of wonderment.

To Sartain’s blurred vision, the skylight appeared to be moving upward! The dull glow of the city-lighted sky was visible above!

Simultaneously a whiff of chill air reached Sartain’s nostrils. The reviving puff sustained him sufficiently to end his decreasing weakness. All went black momentarily; then the darkness moved, and from its strange mass shone two sparkling eyes.

The figure of a living being was projecting itself through the opened skylight. Some rescuer had opened the barrier from the roof, and was descending into the studio!

The puzzled glimmer that came in Sartain’s eyes was noted plainly by Professor Urlich, who was peering through the opera glasses from the office across the street. The scientist, studying each fading gasp of the doomed man as he might have examined a germ cell in a microscope, detected instantly that something had happened.

A peculiar grunt escaped the professor’s lips as he lowered the opera glasses to view the studio instead of the face upon the desk. Jocelyn and Ricordo heard the ejaculation. With one accord they delivered questions of surprise, wondering what Urlich had seen.

“Something has happened from above!” exclaimed the professor. “I could tell it from Sartain’s eyes. Our victim is reviving. What is there, above him? Can you see?”

The three men were crouching close to the sill of the opened office window, trying to gain a view of the space above Sartain’s head. They were seeking the answer to the riddle. It came with unexpected suddenness.

A MASS of blackness dropped downward from the top of the studio. It spread out momentarily upon the floor; then rose upright to become the tall figure of a being clad in black, a sinister shape beneath a flowing cloak, a hidden head covered by a broad slouch hat.

“Through the skylight!” blurted Jocelyn.

“Some intruder,” snarled Urlich, “come to spoil my plan of death—”

“The Shadow!”

The final cry came from Larry Ricordo. The gang lord was trembling with excitement. His companions turned toward him. They could see the whiteness of his face beside the window.

“The Shadow!” Consternation filled Ricordo’s voice. “He stops at nothing! He will save Sartain! He is our enemy!”

To Jocelyn, the very tone of Ricordo’s voice was alarming. The financier did not know the ways of the underworld, he did not share the common fears of gangsters who dreaded the power of The Shadow.

But he sensed the menace from Ricordo’s words.

To Professor Urlich, the gang leader’s fright was also evident. Urlich, like Jocelyn, knew that Ricordo had sighted a potential menace. The Shadow was leaning over Alfred Sartain, raising the millionaire’s body toward the reviving air currents that came from above.

Silent death had failed. Urlich, however, viewed The Shadow as an ordinary human, who had somehow bungled into this situation. He gave no thought to the weird impressiveness of The Shadow’s garb. His one theme was his anger at the unexpected failure of his plot to end Alfred Sartain’s life.

“Our victim is saved!” he snarled. “He will recover now — to live—”

“To live!” cried Jocelyn. “Then my efforts will be of no avail! Unless Sartain dies tonight, the Universal deal will be accomplished. My holdings will lose instead of gaining!”

Larry Ricordo was leaning from the window. Venom showed in the gang leader’s puffy lips. In his hand, he gripped a large revolver, which he was aiming toward the studio across the street.

“It’s a long shot,” he growled grimly, “but I’ll try to plug them both. We’ve got to get Jocelyn — and if we can get The Shadow, too—”

“Stop!” hissed Professor Urlich, seizing Ricordo’s arm. “Your shots will be useless! They may lead to our discovery in this office!”

“Useless?” echoed Ricordo. “Watch me blast them through that window! They’re set right where I want them!”

“The glass is bullet-proof,” interposed Urlich. “Have you forgotten that, Ricordo?”

The gang leader snarled as he let his arm fall helplessly. He had forgotten. The very feature of the trap — the unbreakable window — which had been designed to insure Alfred Sartain’s life, had now become a protection for both the millionaire and his mysterious rescuer!

PROFESSOR URLICH stared spitefully at the scene; Thomas Jocelyn groaned. The Shadow was still working to restore Alfred Sartain to consciousness. Larry Ricordo, gripping his gun with frenzy, was the one who suddenly supplied the way of action.

“We can get him yet!” he snarled. “You’ll see how I work now, professor. Those men of mine can turn the trick. The Shadow is a tough egg; but he’s going to have trouble getting out of this mess!”

The gang leader leaped to a corner of the darkened office. He gripped a telephone, and swore roundly as he was forced to use a flashlight to see the dial. While muttered oaths came from his lips, he spun the number that he wanted.

“That you, Slips?” came his low voice. “Good… Yes, this is Larry… Yes, get going. Up to Sartain’s. Crash right through… Hurry… Listen, there is another guy with him… Yes, you’ll know him all right… The Shadow… No… No… Don’t tell the others. Get going… It’s the one chance, and I’m watching. Get me? I’m looking on!”

The receiver dropped on the hook. Ricordo turned toward the window, where Urlich and Jocelyn were still staring at the building across the street.

“Still there?” Ricordo demanded anxiously.

“Yes,” responded Professor Urlich.

“We’ll get him, then!” snarled Ricordo. “I tipped Slips Harbeck. He’s going up with the gorillas. Duster Brooks will help them. They’ll get Sartain and The Shadow both!”

“It will mean a terrible commotion,” interposed Thomas Jocelyn nervously. “It will be murder, Ricordo — the police will investigate.”

“What of it?” growled the gang leader. “I’ve got my trail all covered. Only Slips Harbeck and Duster Brooks know that I’m in back of it. They won’t squeal; they’ll scram. As for you and the professor, there’s no link between me and you bozos. What we want is to see Sartain dead.”

“Ricordo is right,” agreed the professor quietly. “Have no alarm, Jocelyn. I would prefer silent death; but violence is acceptable in this emergency. Thomas Jocelyn must die — and his rescuer with him.”

No further words came as the trio watched the studio. The Shadow was swinging Alfred Sartain to the chair beside the desk. The millionaire moved feebly. He lay, outstretched, his face staring upward.

PROFESSOR URLITCH was gazing through the opera glasses. He could not, however, sight the face of that mysterious being in black. Even in that enlarged field of vision, The Shadow’s head and shoulders were entirely a mass of darkness. The brim of the slouch hat cast an impenetrable gloom upon the features beneath it.

“I can’t see his face,” announced Urlich calmly, “but that does not matter. It is turned from the doorway — which is most favorable. If your men are capable, Ricordo—”

The scientist paused to lower the glasses and glance at Ricordo in the dim light by the window. The gang leader emitted a coarse laugh.

“They’re the best gorillas money can buy,” he affirmed. “But they’re up against The Shadow. Don’t forget that, professor! I tipped Slips, and he won’t miss a trick. The Shadow, professor! He’s the one guy that they’ve all tried to get.”

“Your men are coming now,” exclaimed Jocelyn suddenly. “I can see a motion through the windows of the outer room!”

“Right!” added Ricordo. “They’ll be at the door in a few seconds. Say — if they blot out The Shadow—”

“Look!”

Professor Urlich was pointing from the office window. His long forefinger indicated the blackclad figure of The Shadow.

Satisfied that Alfred Sartain was reviving, the blackclad rescuer was rising. His form became a tall, menacing shape; then, suddenly, it became motionless. A momentary pause. Black-gloved hands swung inward toward the shrouding cloak.

“They have reached the door by now,” asserted Jocelyn tensely.

“Yes!” agreed Ricordo, in an excited tone. “They’re at the door — and they’ve got The Shadow!”

As though proving the truth of the gang leader’s assertion, the tall form in black pirouetted suddenly toward the door of the studio. A cry of elation came from Larry Ricordo.

The Shadow, when he swung, was weaponless. He, with Alfred Sartain, seemed doomed!