which brought him to his feet. It was a distant blast - the boom of an underground explosion.
The raid had begun! Soon The Red Blot’s cohorts would be returning! Cardona had been told to bring other men with him, that they might hold this spot. Cardona realized that he was alone! He reached for his pocket, realizing as he did that his revolver must have been taken from him. To his amazement, his fingers brought forth an automatic!
On his feet, Cardona found his other coat pocket heavy. He brought out a second automatic! Doubly equipped, Cardona knew his duty. He was to defend this outlet! He was to drive the returning hordes into other passageways, where the police would be ready to stop them!
The Shadow, returned to darkness, had equipped Joe Cardona for the fray that was to come!
CHAPTER XXIII
THE END OF THE BLOT
CROUCHING mobsmen were waiting in a widened portion of an underground passage. The report of an explosion was still ringing in their ears. Smoke and fumes were dispelling up ahead, where the gleams of flashlights were focused.
“That’s all.”
The words came from Dynamite Hoskins. They meant that the explosion was over; the way was clear ahead. Socks Mallory gave his command.
“Come along!” he ordered. “Inside there; cover the doors while we grab off everything. It will be twenty minutes before the bulls can begin to crash in!”
The horde followed Socks. Three men remained; Dynamite Hoskins stood in darkness; behind him, the bomber knew, was The Red Blot and the other lieutenant who ranked with Socks Mallory.
Little did this waiting trio realize that already a raiding squad of police was arriving at Galladay’s jewelry store! Joe Cardona’s tip-off was to have startling consequences tonight.
Silence persisted for long minutes. The trio waited patiently. Then a flashlight glimmered from along the passage. A frenzied mobster came staggering forward. He fell as he reached the widening of the passage. His flashlight dropped from his grasp. The man rolled over dead.
A light glimmered from the waiting trio. It was held by the man who stood beside The Red Blot. The searching rays seemed to ask regarding this sudden return; but the man whose form that light illuminated could give no answer from his death-frozen lips!
Cries - revolver shots - into the widened space came more men. With them was Socks Mallory, and the mob leader uttered a wild shout that told The Red Blot all.
“The bulls!” cried Socks. “They busted in on us! We had to scram! They’re coming along - never mind the rest of the gang - they’ve been bumped! Block the way - quick!”
A stern voice came from the darkness. The Red Blot gave his order to Dynamite Hoskins.
“Pull the switch.”
Hoskins responded.
Less than ten minutes ago, he had released a charge to blow an upward hole at the end of the passage which curved a hundred feet ahead. Now came his second release.
An explosion thundered in the curving passage. Walls caved in, entombing luckless gangsters who had staggered, wounded, after those who had escaped.
Powerful fumes, driving dust. The Red Blot and his defeated remnants of a gang staggered away from the widened space, heading back to the central cavern. They had effectively stopped any progress on the part of the police.
SOCKS MALLORY heard commands as they hurried along. He understood The Red Blot’s order. He was to lead the dozen men who remained; to conduct them through the best avenue of escape from the cavern.
“The subway,” growled Socks. “We can pick up any way we want from there.”
The word went to the gang. The mobsters hurried ahead, while The Red Blot and his other lieutenant followed at their leisure. Reaching the central cavity, Socks chose one of the passages and ran in that direction with his men close behind him.
The long drive ended at a barricading wall. Socks turned his flashlight on the crowd. His horde had numbered nearly twenty; of these, twelve remained. They were ready to do their leader’s bidding in this getaway.
Calling another man, Socks pried at the wall. It slid to the right; the mobsmen scrambled through the opening. They were in the subway, where they crouched as a local thundered past. This opening was the back wall of a flight of steps which served as the emergency exit below Eighteenth Street.
“Come on!”
The subway was strangely silent as Socks and his men invaded it. Had service been suddenly suspended after the passage of that uptown local? The train had just had time to get to the next station.
The glares of bulls-eye lanterns swept through the gloomy depths of the subway. Shouts arose from everywhere. The mobsmen realized that they were trapped. Leaping for pillars, they began to fire at the lights.
Bullets whined from echoing revolvers. Leaden missives ricocheted against subway walls. Scattering gangsters spread - up and down along the tracks.
Well had Inspector Klein responded to Cardona’s word. The squad of police and detectives was a small one, but there had been time to lay a perfect ambush. The mobsters, clustered in a group, were spreading wildly; those who fought for the law were stationed in well-chosen spots.
Groveling gangsters cursed as they coughed out their lives. One group - four together - ran the gamut and drove on toward the Eighteenth Street station. As they approached, policemen leaned from behind pillars to greet them.
Face to face, the forces clashed. One officer went down from a bullet which ricocheted from a post. But the mobsters had no chance. One was dropped as he sprang to the safety of the wall. Another fell, pulling a trigger vainly upon emptied cartridges. A third staggered while leaping toward a pillar. Only the fourth, already wounded by a glancing shot, preserved his life by dropping his emptied gun and raising his hands in token of surrender.
So far as the dozen mobsters were concerned, it was a complete triumph for the law against these wanted men. There was a thirteenth member of the group, however. He, alone, had effected a swift escape.
THE first to open the door from the secret passage beneath the emergency steps, Socks Mallory had been the last to leave. When police shots had been loosed, the leader of the mobsmen had chosen the one way to safety - back over the route toward that hidden cavern which had served as headquarters for The Red Blot’s mob.
As Socks scrambled along at top speed, he heard the sound of shots. Stopping at the entrance of the cavern, he observed the body of Dynamite Hoskins prone upon the ground.
A wisp of smoke was trickling through the crevice of the door that led to the Red Blot’s office. Detective Joe Cardona had downed the first man who had attempted to come that way.
Madly, Socks Mallory answered the challenge. His revolver burst forth toward the crevice. A lucky shot! It found the opening and clipped Cardona’s shoulder. Hearing a sour grunt beyond the door, Socks Mallory sprang across the cavern and yanked open the door.
It was the gang leader’s last deed. Joe Cardona, wounded, still could fight. The detective had staggered away from the door; but as the barrier opened, he fired a shot with a hand that was pressed close to his body. The bullet felled Socks Mallory. The gang leader’s form fell forward, and jammed between the door and the wall.
Cardona was in retreat. His left hand supporting his crippled right arm, the detective staggered back into the office.
He was just in time. Two figures leaped from passageways where they had fled. Together they invaded the corridor.
The first one stopped at the office door; then entered. Joe Cardona, slumped in the chair, his right arm useless, looked up to face Detective Merton Hembroke.
For a moment, Joe was dazed. He thought that this was a rescue; then he realized that he was mistaken. There was an evil look upon Hembroke’s countenance; a look that was by no means friendly.
“Thought you’d spring one on The Red Blot, eh?” jeered Hembroke. “Well, you got away with a lot - but you didn’t know I was working for him, did you? Socks Mallory and I - we were the boys who put the idea across for
