The Shadow knew that his enemies would be equipped with submachine guns. He realized that so far as the gunners were concerned, he had absolutely no chance. If he thinned the ranks of the foe, reserves would take their place. If need be, the entire underworld would be summoned. The Shadow, arch-enemy of crime, was trapped; that word, once passed, would bring every skulking crook in New York. Hundreds would gloat at the chance of being present at the kill.
In considering masses of possible enemies, The Shadow did not forget one other foeman. He was sure that there was a single lurker close at hand – the one who had somehow sprung this trap. The Shadow was thinking of Ku-Nuan.
One wall of this trap had an opening. The little window just above the heavy shutters that marked the ground floor of the old pawnshop. That window was Ku-Nuan’s station. Though darkness made sight impossible, The Shadow knew that Ku-Nuan was at his post, ready to hurl a dirk once the courtyard was illuminated.
Ku-Nuan had certainly heard the gratings drop. He had also heard The Shadow’s shaking of the bars. It was by imagining Ku-Nuan’s exact reactions that The Shadow gained a sudden scheme.
The Shadow had considered flashing a light toward Ku-Nuan’s window; then delivering a quick shot with a.45, to drop the murderous Mongol. The Shadow had given up that idea, because he realized that a single gun shot would bring the outside crooks to the passages. If Spark Ganza’s listeners heard no sound other than the dropping of the fourth grating, they would close in slowly. That would give The Shadow time for some intermediate action.
Darkness was The Shadow’s shroud. It explained why Ku-Nuan had not already hurled his knife. The Mongol could see nothing in the courtyard. All that he could hear was the fall of the heavy gates and The Shadow’s rattling of the bars. Ku-Nuan had heard three identical occurrences. He would expect a fourth. Knowing that, The Shadow decided upon a strategic move.
THE SHADOW edged toward the fourth passage. He reached it; came to the invisible beam. Instantly, the last gate fell with a clangor that sent echoes quivering through the courtyard. The Shadow did not enter the passage. Instead, he swung back, edged quickly along the wall of the old pawnshop. Stretching long arms upward, The Shadow gripped the protruding shutters that barred the ground floor of the building.
Silently, The Shadow lifted his body. He gained a foothold upon two stone sills. Digging fingers into the crevices of the crumbling brick wall, The Shadow made a further silent climb. His feet lifted; his toes found the tops of the shutters. Moving his left hand slowly upward, The Shadow stretched for the corner of the second-story window sill.
Simultaneously, he looked upward, straight for the dimly glowing sky. Only a few feet above him he saw the outlines of a head and shoulders. The Shadow recognized the contorted form of Ku-Nuan.
The Mongol was craning from the window. He was listening for a sound that he expected to follow the dropping of the gate. Ku-Nuan thought that The Shadow had entered the fourth passage, as he had done with the other three, to clang against impenetrable bars. So intent was Ku-Nuan upon a more distant sound, that he failed to hear the slight swish that had marked The Shadow’s upward progress against the wall.
The Shadow could see Ku-Nuan, for the Mongol was above him; and the sky formed a dully luminous background. Ku-Nuan could not see The Shadow, for the depths of the courtyard were a solid black. The Shadow’s right hand crept upward. Like the left, it gripped a corner of the sill. The Shadow raised one foot, then the other; he gained a last toe-hold. Doubled, extending from the wall, he was within reach of Ku-Nuan.
A brick gave under pressure. The Shadow dug his slipping toe more firmly; he gained a better hold. The reason was simply that a chunk of brick loosened; carrying mortar with it, the fragment dropped down into the courtyard. It clattered an echo from the stone paying beneath. The sound brought a quick snarl from Ku-Nuan.
Instantly, Ku-Nuan recognized The Shadow’s presence. Leaning outward, the Mongol shot his left hand downward. His clawish clutch found The Shadow’s right shoulder. With a triumphant snarl, Ku-Nuan drove his right hard downward, seeking to bury a long blade into The Shadow’s body.
THE SHADOW saw the driving arm against the sky. He sped his left hand from the corner of the sill, plucked Ku-Nuan’s arm in the middle of its swing. He darted his right hand for Ku-Nuan’s neck. The Shadow needed no further hold upon the sill. Ku-Nuan’s arm and neck served instead.
Ku-Nuan did what The Shadow expected. Clutched, the Mongol writhed inward from the window. The Shadow kept his toe-hold; snapped his body forward. As Ku-Nuan tried to wrestle away, The Shadow came with him. One knee found the sill; then the other. Ku-Nuan felt The Shadow surging in upon him. The Mongol changed his tactics.
Stabbing wildly, uselessly with the hand that held the knife, Ku-Nuan tried to lurch The Shadow outward. He half succeeded; but with it, he swung his own body partly across the sill.
Fiercely, The Shadow grappled with Ku-Nuan. Together, the fighters formed a writhing pair that leaned body and shoulders outward over the court. For a moment, it seemed that both would launch themselves into the blackened depths beneath.
The Shadow twisted. He loosened his grip upon Ku-Nuan’s arm. The Mongol slashed a long stroke inward. The Shadow twisted again; the blade found nothing but the shoulder of his cloak, to slit it half from The Shadow’s body.
Again, The Shadow shifted. His head back against the sill, Ku-Nuan saw blackness coming down upon him, plain against the sky’s slight glow. Ku-Nuan swung a terrific up-arm stroke. Again, his knife cleaved cloth. Shedding the carved cloak. The Shadow had swished it like a blanket down upon Ku-Nuan’s head and shoulders.
His arm beneath the cloth, The Shadow found Ku-Nuan’s wrist. With quick grip, he twisted the killer’s hand. The knife slipped from Ku-Nuan’s grasp. Weaponless, the killer snarled from the muffling cloak. Lunging, he shot hands free to catch The Shadow’s throat. For a moment, The Shadow sagged; then gained a body grip upon Ku-Nuan. Choking, he used all his strength to offset the Mongol’s fiendish power.
The grapplers locked above the window ledge. Straining, they formed a motionless picture beneath the dulled sky. The tableau persisted amid silent moments. Endurance had become the test. The one who could outlast the other would be the winner.
During those first few moments, no judge could have told who held the advantage: The Shadow or Ku-Nuan.
CHAPTER XII – CRIME’S PRISONER
Ku-Nuan was not the only listener who had heard the fall of the fourth barrier. While The Shadow was spending time in strategic attack upon the lookout, word of the closed trap had gone elsewhere.
In an alleyway a half block distant from the trap, Spark Ganza had received the reports of three pickets who had been stationed outside different passages. The trio had waited with their leader, counting upon word from a fourth. It had come at last. A hoarse-voiced rowdy, scudding into the alley, announced the final news:
“It clicked, Spark! The gate alongside of the hock shop! I was listenin’ for it -”
Spark gave a harsh command. Each of the four men with him was to assemble a crew from henchmen in the neighborhood, who were awaiting orders. Spark added final words:
“I’ll be coming in from the hockshop side! Have the typewriters set up; but don’t start gunning until I’m there to give the word! What’s more no glims, unless he starts trouble!”