It told Lawsham that The Shadow had already acquired the papers mentioned, while in the little office. Lawsham bowed, as though The Shadow had done him a favor.
Despite the professor's smugness, the pretense that he wished to clear himself, The Shadow could see an evil gleam in those tiny eyes. It was a quick-flashed signal, well-covered; but it gave the next move away.
Behind The Shadow's back, Quill Baxton had risen from the wheeled table. He was reaching for the tank that contained the green gas, hoping to smash it upon The Shadow's head. That would have been a double deed to Lawsham's liking: elimination of The Shadow, along with the antidote that could save the Dead Who Lived.
Lawsham's quick look was an instinctive signal of encouragement to Quill. It proved useless. Quill's fingers were numbed forever before they could tighten on the glass.
The Shadow's right hand sped in a semicircle; his fingers pressed a gun trigger. Quill sagged, stabbed to the heart by the bullet that came with tonguing flame.
THE SHADOW had seen Quill's moves reflected in the chromium-plated surface of a globular sterilizing cabinet just inside the doorway. With Quill's figure dwarfed by that convex mirror, The Shadow had too small a target to take chances on a clipping shot.
The sweep of The Shadow's arm took away the gun that covered Lawsham. No longer did the professor display a faltering gait. He was on the move the instant that The Shadow started to cover Quill.
Recovering his revolver with a long-armed scoop, Lawsham came bounding in with agile speed. His servants gave a shout as they sprang from the office doorway, reclaiming their guns.
The Shadow made a long step forward to meet Lawsham. His left hand was busy loosing shots at the reckless servants. While they were doubling to the floor, The Shadow made a sidestep that forced Lawsham to a shift of aim. The old professor fired; his shot hit the door frame.
With a sweep, The Shadow sidled in upon him. A fierce laugh mocked Lawsham; he was covered again, by a muzzle that almost touched his forehead. Wildly, the professor dropped; as The Shadow's hand slugged downward, Lawsham came up beneath his swing.
A choppy left-hand stroke was all The Shadow needed to bash the revolver from Lawsham's fist. Even the loss of the gun didn't stop the maddened professor. He had become a frantic fiend. Clutching for The Shadow's throat, he forced his black-cloaked adversary toward the wall.
Footsteps pounded; more servants were coming from the floor above, attracted by the gunfire. They saw the struggle between their master and The Shadow. Four in number, they deployed, hoping to get an angled range of fire.
While he fought off Lawsham, The Shadow kept the professor as a shield. He had a gun loose; with it, he could have picked off the servants. Instead, The Shadow gave them a defiant laugh - one that halted them. There was something sinister in that challenge, that told them they were trapped.
New footsteps proved it. Before the servants could wheel to the stairs, men appeared there. Dick Remingwood had arrived, accompanied by a pair of The Shadow's agents. They had used the old route through the bay window.
Flinging Lawsham to the floor, The Shadow let the murderous professor grovel there, his gun just out of reach. The servants were disarmed. Dick and the men with him were following The Shadow's low-toned orders, while their cloaked chief kept foemen covered.
It was Dick who pocketed the precious notebook that contained the formula for the antidote. Cliff Marsland and 'Hawkeye' - the two agents of The Shadow - carried away the cylinder of green gas. The Shadow intended to use it immediately, without mixing more.
Dick stopped to open the rear entrance to the basement. When he had gone up the main stairs, The Shadow stepped in the same direction. Lawsham, glowering, kept watching him; the servants stood sullen and silent.
Men were coming through that rear passage. The first to arrive was Inspector Joe Cardona; behind him, a squad of detectives. They had received a tip-off while searching through Quill's hide-out; a call from The Shadow!
Knowing that Lawsham had intended to take half an hour, The Shadow had made that call from the professor's own office, just after overpowering the lone guard stationed there. When Cardona received orders in The Shadow's whispery voice, Joe followed them.
THE SHADOW watched the law take over. Uriah Lawsham made a grab for his revolver; but one detective kicked the gun away, while another pinned the professor's arms behind him. That grip didn't last long.
Madly, Lawsham broke the hold. Fighting, clawing at the dicks, he dived for the test room. The Shadow couldn't get off a shot; the detectives were in the way. Like The Shadow, Joe Cardona saw the professor grab bottles from a shelf. Joe shouted a warning.
Detectives dropped back. Triumphantly, Lawsham, raised those bottles, to heave them into the laboratory. His murderous eyes were wild with delight; like his high-pitched, incoherent cries, they registered his thoughts.
The Shadow had left! There was still a chance for flight! Moreover, it meant death for these invaders who represented the law that Lawsham despised!
A gun spurted from the stairway. That shot was aimed three inches above Lawsham's right hand. It cracked a bottle filled with purplish fluid, sent the liquid deluging to the floor. Lawsham jolted in stark surprise, as if he had received the bullet himself. As he clawed the air with his empty right hand, he lost his grip on the bottle in his left.
The second container shattered. Thick, blackish fluid mingled with the purple. A puff of smoke filled the test room; flames spurted everywhere, licking along the shelves. More chemicals exploded in a miniature cannonade.
Fire roared from the little room, coming in furious spurts. Detectives snatched up extinguishers from the laboratory, hoping to confine the blaze to the smoke-filled test room. In that, they were successful, although the place had the appearance of a turbulent volcano.
Amid the roar of the flames came a fade of wild-screeched shouts, that were gone with the man who uttered them, long before the deluge of flame had subsided.
Those shrieks were the last of Uriah Lawsham, as the evil professor perished in his self-made hell.
CHAPTER XXI. THE DEAD RETURN
THERE was a laugh, mirthless as a knell, that sounded when Professor Lawsham perished. It came from the blackness of the stairway. Listening detectives heard it, but could not guess its source.
For the stairway, itself, was void by the time those echoes faded, like the dwindling crackles of the flame.
The Shadow had conquered crime; he had been present to stifle a master fiend's last thrust. The Shadow was gone.
Again, his departure told of things to come.
The next sensation in the episode of the Dead Who Lived was the sudden and remarkable recovery of all the victims who had inhaled the sleep gas. It took place within the next few hours, under the supervision of Doctor Rupert Sayre.
First to revive were Harry Vincent and Arlene Delton, whose stay under the power of the death sleep had been a short one. Thurnig, Brellick and Mandor were more difficult cases; but Sayre's skill eased them back to life, thanks to the antidote that The Shadow provided.
The three investors were well enough, the next day, to read the newspaper reports that supplied the final links to crime; for Sayre had also revived the crooks who served Quill Baxton, and for once, such thugs were telling the police everything they knew.
That departure from underworld tradition was attributed to the after effects of the sleep gas; but the theory was wrong. What loosened the tongues of all the crooks was their recollection of the mighty battler who had overpowered them single-handed, and put them among the Dead Who Lived.
The revived crooks wanted no more conflict with The Shadow. To avoid it, they talked, even admitting their part in murder, rather than again incur The Shadow's wrath.
In fact, Sayre's observations indicated that the sleep gas left no after effects upon persons who had been strong enough to stand the original treatment. Such talk had been a pretext on the part of Professor Lawsham, to induce Dick Remingwood to stay in Hadley at the crook-manned sanitarium.
