“The Shadow!”
As the man at the door announced his identity, he placed his hand against the wall beside the door. A loud peal of mocking laughter came from beneath his hood. The door slid open. The Shadow stepped aside.
The gleam of flashlights startled the members of the Seven. The shot of a revolver sounded cannonlike in the secret chamber as Joe Cardona and his men invaded the sanctum of the Silent Seven!
The detective had fired the first shot as a warning. Now came his cry of “Hands up” as he entered the room, his men ranging beside him.
The leader of the Seven had stopped short; now he retreated slowly, his hands above his head. He was directly in front of the hidden niche at the far end of the room. The other members of the Seven were motionless, their hands raised above their heads in token of surrender.
A low chuckle came from the leader of the Silent Seven. The sound was ominous. It presaged danger.
Cardona’s hand tightened on his automatic as he covered his enemy.
“Stand where you are!” ordered the leader of the Seven. “You have tried to thwart the power of the Silent Seven. Not one of you shall live to tell what you have learned!”
He pressed his hand against the wall. There was a flash. Jets of blinding light shot from the sides of the room. The brilliance of lightning filled the room.
The invaders were completely dazzled by the terrific glare. Instinctively they buried their heads in their arms, to protect their eyes from the danger.
But the members of the Seven had understood their leader’s action. They had closed their eyes beneath their dark hoods. The detectives were blinded and incapable of action.
Swiftly, as though in obedience to an implied command, the members of the desperate gang leaped across the room to join their leader.
The leader’s hand reached to the top of the niche. It grasped a lever that extended from the wall. But before the clutching hand could draw the projecting rod, a pistol shot resounded.
One robed figure still stood among the dazed detectives — The Shadow! He, like the members of the Seven, had anticipated the leader’s move. The shot of his automatic was well aimed. His bullet grazed the raised fingers. The leader’s hand fell to his side.
Five desperate men leaped to their leader’s aid. Hands sought the lever that he had lost.
The merciless shots continued from The Shadow’s automatic. Two robed men staggered and fell. But one grasping hand succeeded in its mission. Down came the lever. With its release, a metal curtain fell suddenly from the ceiling. A steel barrier was between the members of the Silent Seven and their enemies.
As the curtain descended, another blinding flash filled the room. The blinking detectives were completely overcome.
In the dim light that remained, The Shadow stooped to the floor. He peeled his robe from his body. Now he was clad in an inconspicuous dark-gray suit, a badge upon his vest. He appeared as one of the plain-clothes men who were with Joe Cardona. Now he was among the detectives, acting with amazing speed.
“Through the door!” he commanded. “This way!”
He forced the men from the room. They were staggering, helpless, not knowing which way to go. They could see nothing but the dazzling glare which still dominated their eyes.
The Shadow was the last to leave. He lifted the bound form of Rodney Paget as if it had been a figure of straw.
THE detectives were groping their way to the elevator. The first group filled the car and descended.
Cardona, recovering his vision, turned to go back to the room where the Silent Seven had been. His path was blocked by the man who held the form of Rodney Paget.
“Stay here!” came the voice of The Shadow. “Hold this prisoner. Get him on the elevator when it comes up. There is not a moment to lose. Out! All of you!”
Cardona obeyed the command. The car was coming up again. He turned and ordered the rest of his men to enter. He felt himself pushed from behind as he staggered into the elevator with his prisoner. The car descended.
As the door opened at the first floor, a terrific explosion came from above. The whole building shook.
Masses of stone and mortar crashed upon the top of the elevator. The detectives staggered from the car and made their way to the street.
They had escaped the doom intended for them by the leader of the Silent Seven. From somewhere in the depths of the building, that murderous criminal had set off a charge that had blown the meeting room to pieces.
Had the dazed detectives been left to their own resources, they would have been unable to escape before the explosion. They had been saved because of the presence of one man — The Shadow!
CHAPTER XXI. DEATH IS DELIVERED
UPPER Broadway was in a turmoil. Police whistles sounded. The sirens of fire trucks cleaved the air.
Thousands of persons had been startled by the explosion that had wrecked the interior of the old apartment house. Police cordons were forming to keep back the excited crowd.
Joe Cardona was at work. He had recovered from the dazzling flares which had temporarily blinded him.
Inspector Timothy Klein was on the scene. He had followed the detective, and had arrived just after the explosion. Now he was commenting on the situation.
“It’s lucky you got out, Joe,” he said. “Otherwise, we’d never have got the dope on this. Seven of them you say—”
“Six,” corrected Cardona. “We got one, you know.”
“One’s not enough!”
“Our men are in the streets.”
A fire ladder had been raised against the side of the old apartment house. Smoke was pouring through the doors and windows. Cardona, awaiting the report of his men, paused to watch a fireman who was ascending the ladder. The task was a perilous one.
The wall was in danger of cracking, yet the man appeared unperturbed. He reached the top of the ladder and peered into the ruins beneath, as one would look into the crater of a smoldering volcano.
Then he gazed downward to the street. Other firemen were following him. The man at the top of the ladder laughed softly as he stepped from the ladder and stood upon the dizzy parapet.
Strangely enough, his eyes were not focused upon the ruins of the inner building. He was staring toward the roofs of the houses in the surrounding blocks.
His comrades were arriving. He made a last careful survey. His eye detected a small, dark trapdoor in the roof of a house across the street. Then his gaze followed along an entire block to a spot at the most distant corner.
The firemen were training a hose upon the blaze in the depths of the burning building. The man who had led the way suddenly stepped back upon the ladder and descended to the street. He became one of the many firemen who were working about the engines. Then he disappeared.
A moment later, some one tapped Detective Cardona upon the shoulder. Both the detective and the inspector turned to see a fireman in uniform. They did not recognize him as the man whom they had seen upon the ladder.
“You’re looking for the guys that started this, aren’t you?” asked the fireman.
“Yeah,” said Cardona. “What about it?”
“Across the street,” said the fireman, making a gesture with his thumb. “There’s a trapdoor in the roof. Right over the hock shop. Looked to me like it moved. Maybe—”
“Get your men!” exclaimed Klein to Cardona.
As the detective and the inspector left, the fireman laughed softly to himself. He ignored his apparent duty as he walked away from the crowd and disappeared around the corner.