now, with the aid that had been afforded by The Shadow.
Vic knew from past experience that after The Shadow had triumphed, hidden matters always came to light. His mind was in a presaging mood - and his surmises were correct.
Although Vic did not know it, the documents that The Shadow had taken from Clifford Forster's desk were already on their way to Marquette's headquarters. The Shadow had anticipated the events that had transpired here.
Thoughtfully, the secret-service man stared in the direction which The Shadow had taken. He saw no sign of the black-clad form.
He knew that The Shadow's wounds could not be sufficiently serious to prevent his safe departure. Yet Vic still sought to pierce the shadowy portions of the terrain that surrounded the edge of the battle-scarred lawn.
Bodies of dead men were scattered everywhere. These men had died because they had deserved death.
Creatures of evil who had served against justice, their futile conflict had been designed by The Shadow's desire for retribution.
Vic thought of Lucien Partridge lying far below. To the most terrible of all these evil men had come the most horrible death that any of the crew had suffered.
APPROACHING sounds came vaguely to Vic's ears. He heard the siren of a distant automobile. For a moment he did not understand. Then his mind cleared.
The terrific explosion had been heard throughout the countryside. Rescuers were on their way, hurrying to see what tragedy had occurred at Lucien Partridge's.
The State police were coming. They would take charge. Vic would receive help, even though that aid might be belated.
Looking across the lawn, Vic saw the ruins of the smoldering mansion. The lawn was clear now, and a white object caught the secret-service man's attention. Partridge's laboratory smock, with the gloves beside it!
He must warn the rescuers not to touch them. They must be kept as evidence —the gloves to be analyzed for the poison that they contained.
The creeping death! No more would the insidious malady run rampant, striking down helpless, unsuspecting victims at the desire of an archfiend.
Deaths had been avenged here, upon this body-strewn lawn. But Vic realized that those deaths were but few compared to the ones that had been averted by The Shadow's might!
How many more would Lucien Partridge have slain? Vic Marquette could not surmise. He knew only that he had been saved thrice by The Shadow: once, by the quarry across the river; a second time, when the alarm had sounded; last, when The Shadow had boldly risked death that Vic might reach safety.
The siren was shrill now. The police were nearly here. The task was ended. Vic Marquette listened gladly to the welcome sound. Then, as the noise lulled momentarily, he heard another sound.
A weird, uncanny echo seemed to come from somewhere not far away— somewhere off beyond the lawn. Vic Marquette recognized that sound. It brought proof that The Shadow had still remained nearby until he was sure that help had come for Vic Marquette.
For that sound, with its tones of eerie mirth, could have come from no lips other than those of the strange phantom in black.
It was the triumph laugh of The Shadow!
THE END
