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The Shadow - Trail of Vengeance Part 12

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Dropping back as they saw the police, Enwood's henchmen lost their opportunity to clip The Shadow.

He was fading toward a corner when they looked for him again, and his laugh was so evasive that before they could locate him, they were under the muzzles of police revolvers.

The only man who profited by the rapid s.h.i.+fts was Enwood, though he saw to it that Olivan shared the advantage. Whisking the sallow man from Bert and Timothy, Enwood rushed him out to the elevator.

Firing back, Enwood might have floored Bert permanently if The Shadow hadn't paused to haul the unwary young man to one side. Profiting by that delay, Olivan, out of his daze, ordered the elevator operator to get started downward.

In the lobby, Enwood and Olivan found themselves confronted by the clerk and doorman, both with guns. When they turned back to the elevator, the operator also was covering them. Newcomers, all three-agents of The Shadow!



When the original elevator man had gone out for packages, Harry and Cliff had gabbed him. The man who had put on the uniform jacket and gone in to cover The Shadow's entrance, was Burbank. Harry and Cliff had ganged up on the doorman, Cliff donning the fellow's uniform. Cliff had beckoned the clerk, Burbank had followed to help subdue him and send him off in Moe's cab.

Which had left Harry free to become the new clerk. Instead of keeping Weston and Cardona downstairs, Harry had sent them up, in accordance with instructions from The Shadow.

Shoving Enwood and Olivan into the elevator, the agents deprived them of their guns and took them up again. The Shadow received the culprits and gestured them into the living room with his guns. Remaining with his agents, The Shadow watched what happened when the police took custody of the prisoners.

Bert and Timothy were handing their guns to Weston, who was stating that he would show leniency toward their sincere, though misguided activities. The chance for another break suited Enwood and Olivan. Each s.n.a.t.c.hed a weapon and tried to spring away, not realizing that The Shadow was lunging from the elevator to block off their escape.

But Enwood had something better than escape in mind. He grabbed Olivan and spun the astonished secretary squarely at Cardona and the detectives, who had no choice but to shoot, since Olivan's gun was looming right at them. They battered Olivan with bullets, and then sprang for Enwood, who calmly tossed his gun away and let them take him. In facing Weston, Enwood saw beyond the commissioner, to the elevator where The Shadow stood, balancing his automatics.

"Sorry, commissioner," spoke Enwood. His words were loud enough, with their ring of triumph, to reach The Shadow. "I shouldn't have tried to escape. I suppose there is some small penalty for it."

"You're wanted for murder!" reminded Weston. "Or has your memory failed you, Enwood?"

"Not quite. I think it's Olivan you want." Enwood corrected himself. "Or, I believe, you did want Olivan.

Of course, he would have blamed me for the death of Lionel Glendon. A preposterous thing, but some people might have believed his story, if he told it in lengthy detail in a courtroom. But a brief, dying confession would hardly suffice, commissioner."

Enwood gestured toward the floor to indicate Olivan's sagged form, but he didn't deign to look in that direction. Only The Shadow saw what was coming, but since Enwood wasn't interested, The Shadow felt unimpelled to intervene.

Olivan had strength enough for about a dozen words before he died. But he didn't care to talk, after hearing what Enwood said. He diverted that strength to action, which spoke louder than words. It spoke with a loud report, from the gun that Olivan shoved upward with his dying hand.

The aim was easy at that close range. Enwood took the bullet in the heart and caved across Olivan's body, as it flattened from the recoil of the gun. Partners in murder had found a mutual doom.

Those other partners, Bert and Timothy, heard the strange laugh that echoed, like a parting knell, from the elevator. Staring, the men of vengeance caught a last glimpse of The Shadow before the door clanged shut. But the echoes of that weird mirth seemed to hover over the scene.

A tone of triumph, that departing laugh, voiced by the real master of vengeance, whose ways the law could well approve and whose might had conquered crime, through justice.

The Shadow! THE END

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