按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
Beezer's face showed it。 So did his manner； for his attempt at bravado was a weak one。 The yellowish tinge upon Beezer's face represented the closest that the murderer could e to actual paleness。
Perhaps The Shadow already knew of Beezer's part。 The murderer could not tell； but he learned promptly that The Shadow had gained information concerning persons more important than this prisoner。 That became apparent when The Shadow spoke； his tone was an uncanny whisper that produced a shudder in Beezer's squatty frame。
〃State who sent you here！〃 ordered The Shadow。 〃Name all concerned in your present move！〃
It was a mand； not a question。 Beezer realized the full significance of The Shadow's words。 Chances were that The Shadow knew who had sent the killer here； Beezer could see trouble for himself if he lied。 The crook tried to snarl an answer； his voice was incoherent。 Quailing； he resorted to a whine。
〃I didn't put the finger on you；〃 he protested。 〃Honest； I wasn't sent to make no trouble！ It was on account of…〃
BEEZER stopped； knowing his whine to be useless。 An interruption rescued him； the sound was a cautious rap at the door of the room。 Beezer glanced nervously toward The Shadow。 Hidden lips issued a mand。
〃Answer it！〃 ordered The Shadow； his whispered tone low。 〃Tell your pals to join you！〃
Beezer gulped； then called hoarsely：
〃e in； you guys！〃
〃Move toward the table；〃 ordered The Shadow。 〃Keep your arms high！〃
Beezer obeyed while the door was opening。 He saw The Shadow step back behind the focused lamp。 Footsteps clumped inward from the door； one of Beezer's cronies questioned：
〃Did you croak him； Beezer？〃 There was no reply from Beezer。 The thugs stopped as they saw their leader； against the wall； his hands above his head。
They swung about； looking for an enemy； their hands tightened on their guns； then loosened。
Beezer's pals had heard a sinister whisper。 They stared toward the corner； like Beezer； they saw The Shadow。 He had stepped into the light； both his fists were equipped with automatics。 One 。45 held Beezer motionless； the other covered the two thugs。 They acted as Beezer had。 Two revolvers thudded the carpet together。
Pointing with his guns； The Shadow huddled the three mobsters together at the end of the room。 His unseen lips formed a mirthful whisper； as ominous as the strident laugh that crooks had heard earlier upon this night。 The meaning broke suddenly upon Beezer Dorsch； as he saw The Shadow put away one gun。 A telephone was in easy reach of The Shadow's free hand； his single automatic was sufficient to hold the clustered trio at bay。
〃He's going to give us to Maclare！〃 gulped Beezer。 〃The guy we tried to croak last night！ We're in Maclare's precinct； there ain't a chance for us when he gets us！
As he gave this news； Beezer started forward。 He halted at the threat of The Shadow's gun muzzle。 Neither of Beezer's pals had nerve enough to back him in a break for safety。 Beezer saw The Shadow reach for the telephone。 A second interruption halted the gloved hand。
Another knock was sounding at the door。 It became a violent pounding。 The Shadow knew that it was not the waiter； so did Beezer。 The murderer strained forward； itching to make a spring。 A loud voice sounded from beyond the door：
〃Open！ In the name of the law！〃
ONE part of Stephen Ruthley's game had； as yet； escaped The Shadow。 That was the big…shot's plan to make Beezer Dorsch a fugitive from justice。 Hearing the voice from the corridor； noting the ugly triumph that suddenly appeared upon Beezer's face； The Shadow caught the idea。
He knew that the man who had shouted for entry was not an officer from Lieutenant Maclare's precinct。 Outside were members of Kirk Borman's Flying Squadron； here to see that murder went through； prepared to cover the escape of Beezer Dorsch by pretense of a chase。
Instantly； The Shadow whipped out his second automatic。 Turning his shoulder toward Beezer and the pair of thugs； The Shadow covered them with one gun； while he jabbed the other toward the door。 Between two groups of enemies； he intended to hold unarmed men at bay； while he drove back invaders who would e with ready weapons。
As the door shoved inward； Beezer took a chance。 He snarled a mand to his pals； this time； they obeyed。 Thinking that Beezer was with them； the two thugs made a desperate dive for The Shadow。 Surging with full fury； they were upon him with a single bound。
The Shadow had only one course。 Fading toward the door； he fired as he dropped。 His bullets winged the thugs； sprawled them to the floor。 Beezer dropped with them； but his fall was a foxy one。 His pals had shielded him； Beezer still wanted them between himself and The Shadow。
That was scarcely necessary。 The Shadow had no more time to deal with Beezer。 Spinning toward the door； he whirled straight into a trio of policemen； who were clad in khaki； the distinguishing uniform of the Flying Squadron。 Had there been a bluecoat in their midst； The Shadow would have let that man dive away。 All； however； were khaki…clad。 Director Borman had chosen those uniforms； that crooks might know their friends。 The Shadow treated them alike。
His long arms were lashing； his heavy guns clipped heads beneath visored caps and sent the trio sagging。 In the corridor； The Shadow ripped quick shots at three more members of the Flying Squadron； winged one and sent the others diving for cover。 As The Shadow sprang past an elevator； the door clanged open； four members of the squadron saw him and charged。 They swung their revolvers； this time； The Shadow was in the midst of a slugging throng。
BACK in The Shadow's room； a shot was fired。 One of Beezer's wounded pals had taken a pot shot at Beezer himself。 It was in payment for his cowardice； in letting his pals bear the brunt of The Shadow's quick defense。
That shot went wide； it was Beezer who fired the next ones。 Savagely； the killer drilled both of his pals； sprawling them dead upon the floor； to leave no witnesses who might proclaim his treachery throughout the underworld。
Springing to the hall； Beezer arrived to see The Shadow wheeling away from four foemen。 Beezer dived for a stairway； The Shadow paused to deliver halting shots。 A khaki…clad foeman pounced upon him； knocked down his gun arm。 The Shadow whirled away to avoid a clinch。 Shaking off another attacker； he reached the door of a fire tower。
All along the hall were members of the Flying Squadron； ing to hands and knees； groggy from strokes that they had received。 There were others who had dodged The Shadow's attack。 They opened fire from corners of corridors。 The Shadow saw the fire tower as a vantage point。 He took it； slamming the door behind him。 Hardly was he on the tower before he realized the value of his move。
Sirens were screeching from below。 The entire squadron was out； surrounding the hotel。 The Shadow knew what prolonged battle with these disguised thugs would produce。 It would bring out the full police force； Lieutenant Maclare first； with the men who patrolled this precinct。 They would side with the Flying Squadron。 The Shadow wanted no battle with such loyal men。
To avoid that inevitable result； The Shadow hurried down the fire tower。
He reached the bottom just in time to see Beezer Dorsch dash from a side door of the hotel。 The Shadow had no time to aim for the murderer； Beezer was ducking behind an automobile； pointing to the fire tower as he dived for cover。
Two squadron men saw him； they let Beezer go and headed for the tower。
The Shadow swung out upon them。 As their guns came up； his came down in two long swings。 One man took a blow upon the head； the other dodged； but received a glancing stroke that made him stumble。 Hearing shouts from men who had rounded the front corner of the hotel； The Shadow sprang off between parked cars。 Dodging back and forth； he reached a coupe and boarded it。
Another car had pulled away from the other side of the parking lot。 The Shadow heard the whine of its gear and knew that Beezer had made his getaway。
That flight was by arrangement with the law。 The Shadow had no such pleasant prospect。 Trouble began anew； as he sped his car toward the street。
A SQUADRON car shot in to block The Shadow's coupe。 The Shadow tongued a quick blast from his automatic； to avoid the fire； the driver of the squadron car veered。 The Shadow wheeled away from bright lights； as his coupe roared past Judge Benbrook's house； three khaki…clad men on motorcycles took up the chase。
The Shadow veered left at the trolley tracks； rounded the block； sped his car through an alleyway。 A patrol car sighted him； it followed。 Another block； two policemen in blue uniform saw the chase and mandeered a sedan to join the pursuit。
Again； The Shadow turned his course； headed back toward the city's center。
Finding a side street； he took it； to avoid another squadron car that was ing straight toward him。
As The Shadow whizzed past a corner； he went by an automobile that had pulled up to the curb。 The man behind the wheel of that car sat watching； as police cars and motorcycles sped by。 When the wild parade had faded in the distance； that watcher slid from his car and shuffled toward an alleyway that offered direct access to the rear door of Lance Gillick's Club Adair。
A street lamp gave a momentary glimpse of the shuffler's ugly face。 The man was Beezer Dorsch； grinning from ear to ear。 He had expected a pursuit before he could head back to Lance's perfect hide…out。 With so many dumb cops in Westford； there was always a chance of trouble； as Beezer viewed it。
Circumstances had turned out well for Beezer Dorsch。 He could forget the fact that he had failed to murder Shaw。 After all； Shaw was The Shadow； and others could take the job of bagging him。 As Beezer recalled it； Mayor Marclot and Police Director Borman had agreed to handle that particular task。
They had made a good beginning。 The pursuit that Beezer had witnessed was a real one。 The Shadow had put himself in wrong with the law。 He had made Beezer's fake flight an easy one； and had given the Flying Squadron a real trail； for a change。
Beezer Dorsch was hopeful that the Flying Squadron would show its real ability tonight。
CHAPTER X
THE LOST TRAIL
THE chase that Beezer had witnessed was actually a hot one。 The Shadow realized it as he sped toward the city limits； picking a course through the winding streets of one of Westford's suburbs。 Pursuers had spread out； picking parallel streets。 At every corner； The Shadow heard sirens that told of foemen on both sides。
Horns were honking from a hundred yards behind。 They represented mandeered cars。 More of the regular police had joined in the hunt。 Like the members of the Flying Squadron； they would give The Shadow plenty； if they gained the opportunity。 Questions and explanations would e afterward。
The Shadow's coupe was no speedier than the cars of the pursuers； but he knew this section of Westford。 He had chosen it on that account。 At intervals； The Shadow chose short…cuts； where angled streets afforded quick routes to other thoroughfares。 These shifts put him farther ahead of the cars upon his trail。
Making a quick turn at a corner； The Shadow threaded through a maze of streets and gained a highway that led from the town。 Speeding toward the open road； he saw the glare of two sets of headlights； ing straight toward him； side by side。 Instantly； The Shadow knew that a radio call had been given。
Patrol cars on the city's outskirts were heading in to block him。
Quickly； The Shadow chose the first side road that offered itself。 The coupe jolted over bumpy paving； then came a muddy lane where a pair of ruts offered the only progress。 Taking it at rapid speed； The Shadow saw the end of the road。 He stopped the coupe on the very fringe of a small pond。 Dropping to the ground； he looked back along the lane。 He saw headlights bouncing as cars took the ruts。 Half a dozen automobiles had neared this finish of the chase。
One minute more would bring them to the spot where The Shadow stood。
High above； off to the right； The Shadow saw a glow of light。 It came from the top of a huge water tower； its rounded bottom forming a bowl upon long； spi