pass him the first cap.
Clyde Burke groaned within the mammoth test tube that held him prisoner. This was the beginning of the
end. One cap; then the other; after that death that would be terrible despite its rapidity.
Then, suddenly, Clyde's eyes opened wide. Coming into the realm of concentrated light was a mass of
blackness that bore only the grotesque semblance of a human form, when viewed through the curving
glass.
Clyde emitted a cry of exultation. It escaped his lips despite his effort to restrain it. The shout caused a
hollow echo from the huge test tube. Sanoja turned; so did Rasch. Terrified gasps came from Professor
Urlich's henchmen.
Standing before the tubes of death stood a tall figure clad in black. Menacing eyes glared from beneath
the broad brim of a slouch hat. From the folds of a black cloak extended a gloved hand that held a
powerful automatic, ready for action.
Rasch cowered, with upraised hands, as he stood upon the ladder. The metal cap clattered from
Sanoja's fists as the man on the floor also raised his arms. Steadily, The Shadow approached. His
mocking laugh came in clear, fantastic tones of triumph.
Professor Folcroft Urlich would find no victims here when he returned; nor would he find tubes of
colorless liquid where living men had come. The Shadow had arrived to foil the scheme of silent death!
The Shadow's glowing eyes brought terror to the enemies who viewed them. Those eyes were glaring
now. They knew all; they saw all. Not only did they observe the cowering minions of Professor Urlich;
they also perceived the cause of the scientist's sudden departure.
The Shadow had seen the red light that still glowed above the central staircase! Again, his laugh reechoed
through that laboratory where death had been frustrated!
CHAPTER XXII. THE SWITCH OF DEATH
PROFESSOR FOLCROFT URLICH stood beside the huge death machine in the pit beneath his
laboratory. His hand was on the control switch; his eyes watched the row of glowing incandescents.
Not yet did the cruel scientist intend to loose the terrific shock of death. Only the red bulb was lighted. It
meant that invaders had come no farther than the outer portico.
Well had the professor designed his three zones of death. He did not intend to use the power at his
disposal merely to dispose of some prowler; nor did he choose to employ it indiscreetly.
So long as the first zone alone had been entered, there could be no danger. Perhaps these intruders
would go away. If they sought to enter, they could be allowed to do so, if they came as friends.
That was the reason why the scientist had ordered his men to proceed with the experiment that would
bring death to the captives in the laboratory. If merely harmless investigators had come to this coliseum of
doom, Urlich could welcome them with clean hands.
The muffled thuds of heavy battering suddenly impressed themselves upon the professor's ears. A frown
furrowed the evil brow. That sound meant enemies. The scientist's hand wavered upon the control
switch. It paused.
This was not the time to kill. If death were dealt now, some watchers beyond the range of the hidden
portico might be clear; they might witness the end of their companions.
Urlich grinned wickedly. He would let these invaders enter. Once inside, within the second zone; yes,
even in the third, he could pull the switch of death!
Silent death! The death that Urlich had longed to deal. This coming upon the heels of his laboratory
experiment caused the fiend to chortle with glee.
The Shadow was dead; his agents were on their way to destruction; and other enemies were entering the
door to meet their end.
WHO could these foes be? Professor Urlich nodded as he thought. The police? Yes! Somehow, they
had trailed the path of Larry Ricordo.
Urlich scowled; he was striking the right solution. Something had gone wrong at the Grand Central
Terminal. That might be the trouble.
What did it matter? Death lay at his hand. The fiend cackled forth his challenge to the thumping that still
persisted beyond the outer doors. His eyes went back to the incandescents. The green bulb became
The green!
That meant that some one had reached the circular corridor — the second zone of death! It could not be
the men from outside, they were still trying to burst down the heavy doors. It could only be Sanoja or
Rasch who now trod that silent hallway.
But why had one of them come down? Why, even if one had descended, had the man not come
completely to the bottom of the hollow cylinder, to enter the pit where Urlich now stood?
It could not be possible that one of the servants had gone to admit the intruders. Professor Urlich laughed
at the very thought. He continued to watch the telltale bulb of green. It remained illuminated.
A sound came from the front end of the room, beyond the balcony. It was at the unused door which led
from the circular passage into the balcony itself.
Professor Urlich did not hear the sound as the door opened; but the sudden increase of the thumping
surprised him.
Yet it was not this that made him turn his head. The sign that came as a warning was the sudden lighting
of the white bulb — the signal that a person had reached the metal flooring of the balcony!
With hand still upon the death switch, the scientist wheeled to look at the door.
There, in the dim light, he saw a figure that he recognized; a spectral shape that he had viewed once
before — the being that had dropped through the skylight into the studio of Alfred Sartain's penthouse.
The Shadow!
Professor Urlich's glaring eyes encountered the blazing gaze of the black-cloaked master. The Shadow
had let the door swing shut behind him. With one hand resting upon the rail of the balcony, he held an
automatic in his other fist, the round muzzle of the weapon directed squarely toward Professor Urlich.
The scientist's fingers trembled on the switch; then they grasped it with a firmer hold.
Cunning beyond all measure, the scientist now held an advantage which even The Shadow could not
destroy. Should a bullet from that automatic fell Professor Urlich, his hand would draw the switch also. It
would mean death to the man who killed him!
Silent, The Shadow saw the situation. His laugh came eerily through the vaulted pit. Professor Urlich
cackled nervously. He did not like the chilling tones of that uncanny mockery; nevertheless, his awe was
not sufficient to make him yield the hold that was his hope.
Urlich faced destruction; he knew that The Shadow could also see the hand of doom. The black-garbed
master who had brought about this stalemate made no comment other than his laugh.
Slowly, to the cadence of the muffled beats at the outer door, The Shadow circled the balcony, still
holding Urlich in abeyance with his automatic. The cunning scientist, in turn, kept tight grip upon the lever
and watched The Shadow constantly.
ONE moment of inattention on the part of The Shadow; Urlich would spring the switch. On the contrary,
should the scientist's grip loosen for a single instant, a shot from the automatic would spell his doom.
The Shadow completed a semicircle that brought him opposite the door. Professor Urlich clutched the
lever tensely. He sensed a purpose. By diverting his attention away from the door, Urlich could not see
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sp; the others enter. Still, the old man laughed. A shot from behind him could not change the situation. If he
fell, no matter how, his hand would still grip the switch.
"Professor Urlich," came The Shadow's sudden whisper, "I have come to end your fiendish schemes.
You can no longer thwart me."
A sneering chortle was the scientist's reply.
"Three lights are illuminated," whispered The Shadow. "Does that not tell you how your plans have
failed?"
Professor Urlich did not even glance toward the bulbs to see that The Shadow had spoken the truth.
"Red: the portico," went on The Shadow weirdly. "Green: the corridor. White: the gallery in which I
stand. Does that signify anything to you, Professor Urlich?"
The professor made no reply. He was puzzled, but he did not show it. His fiendish scowl persisted. He
could still hear the pounding at the outer door. He wondered why. Men had entered. Why were others
still trying to get in?
"The white light," declared The Shadow, in sinister tones, "is evidence of my presence. The green light
tells that I have visited your laboratory. Your men are prisoners. My agents are released. It is they who
are waiting in the corridor. They expect me to return.
"The red light tells of men beyond the outer door. The law is striking at your portals. You have no
escape. Remove your hand from the switch and await your capture. It is the one chance I offer you!"
Professor Urlich snarled. He raised his voice in sarcastic words— a challenge to The Shadow.
"Remove my hand?" laughed the fiend. "This hand holds you at my mercy. You and your men alike. You,
your men, and the police. Shoot me if you dare; it will mean your end! You and the others are within the
circles of silent death!"
"Do not draw that switch," warned The Shadow coldly. "I promise you — it will mean your death!"
"My death?" And Professor Urlich sneered. "Like Samson, I may die, but my enemies will perish with
me! It is not within your power to prevent me!"
"It is within my power," returned The Shadow, with a sinister laugh. "One bullet from this automatic
would achieve that result. Not your black heart, Urlich, but your trembling hand would be my mark.
Hand and lever both would break, did I decree it!"
The challenge made the scientist tremble. He did not deem such perfect marksmanship possible; but his
recollection of The Shadow's deeds, as recounted by Larry Ricordo, caused his mind to waver.
The Shadow had made the statement as a simple fact. Nevertheless, Urlich gained courage to ridicule
The Shadow's words.
"Try it!" he snarled. "One shot will be your end. Aim at my hand— and miss. See that hand respond the
moment that your automatic no longer covers my body! It will be your last sight in life!"
"I warn you once again," returned The Shadow. "To press that switch will mean your doom! The
invaders are here" — a clanging fall of the outer doors proved the words—"but I shall remain. They will
see only you; but you will know my presence. The choice is yours. Press that switch or yield. My last
warning tells you that death will be yours alone. I have spoken."
THE tall form shrank beside the rail as men pounded at the door of the balcony. Cardona and the
invading detectives had spotted the second entrance. Professor Urlich stared at the spot, where The
Shadow had been. He saw only two gleaming eyes and the muzzle of an automatic.
The door swung open on the balcony. It had been left loose by The Shadow. The squad of detectives
swarmed into the gallery and stopped beside the rail. Dazed expressions were on their faces. They
waited for Cardona to act; but the leading detective was dumfounded by the sight before him.
The red light had gone out upon the machine. All had come in from the portico. The white, which signified
these men and The Shadow, was still illuminated. The green, which came from the circling corridor,
denoted the presence of The Shadow's agents in that passage.
Urlich's eyes went from the lights toward the detectives. The men did not move. They could not
understand the situation. Cardona gave no order to attack; he did not realize the danger. He saw only a
fiendish maniac beside a strange machine a raving, laughing man who was powerless before the revolvers
that now covered him.
Cackling wildly, Urlich stared once more at the lights. The white one went out. The red came on. The
reason burst through the evil scientist's brain. The Shadow's agents were escaping! They had fled to the
portico immediately after the advent of the police squadron.
Heedless of a whispered echo that came from the spot where The Shadow crouched, contemptuous of
the detectives who gawked without suspecting the trap that they had entered, Professor Urlich tightened
his hold upon the switch. He expected a shot from The Shadow. He grinned as he prepared for it.
At that instant, the fiend's eyes lowered to the floor. They saw that the heavy insulated wire from the
machine had been spliced. A sudden tremor shook the villain's body.
In that terrible instant, his eyes realized a fearful truth; but his hand, inspired by instinctive determination,
did not falter in its work or heed the warning from the staring eyes.
Down came the switch. No report from The Shadow's automatic accompanied it. The staring, wondering
detectives leaped back toward the door as a terrific sound came from the huge machine.
Long crackles of lightning leaped from pole to pole. Disks whirred and wheels revolved. But another and
more terrible phenomenon accompanied that mighty outburst. From every section of the metal floor
within the pit leaped blazing, snapping sparks.
A terrific flash enveloped the form of Professor Folcroft Urlich. With it came a swift, sweeping puff of
whitish smoke that seemed to burst like a cloud from nether regions.
The white fumes swirled away. The machine crackled on, and sparks sallied about the floor.
At the spot where the fiend had stood, a man remained no longer. Instead of a human, form, a mass of
smoldering bone and ashes were piled in a grotesque pyramid. These were all that remained of Professor
Folcroft Urlich, scientist and fiend of evil.
Well had The Shadow planned this dynamic finish, during his sojourn in the pit beneath the laboratory.
His keen mind had seen the purpose of this terrible machine. By sure but simple process, The Shadow
had disconnected the huge feed wire that led to the three outer zones, and had attached it to the floor of
the pit — that metal base upon which Urlich had first conducted his electrical experiments.
The master of silent death was no more. The Shadow had given him true warning. The pressure of the
switch had brought a deserved end to the murderer who had sullied science to serve his evil designs.
CHAPTER XXIII. THE STORY
CLYDE BURKE wrote the story for the Classic. The reporter received it in detail from Detective Joe
Cardona. The so-called suicide of Professor Folcroft Urlich created a great sensation in the columns of
the New York newspaper.
The public learned that schemes of terrible death had failed except on one occasion — that was when
Thomas Jocelyn had died. Thrice had planted snares gone wrong: with Alfred Sartain, Wesley
Barnsworth, and Gardner Joyce.
When Thomas Jocelyn had died by subtle poisoning, with his servant, Grewson, by his side, Joe
Cardona had already been upon the trail of the murderers. Slips Harbe
ck, quizzed, had named Larry
Ricordo. The gang lord, shot down in the Grand Central Terminal, had squealed on Professor Folcroft
Urlich.
Pictures portrayed the laboratory where Cardona and his men had gone. There, the scientist, apparently
choosing his own killing current in preference to that of the electric chair, had swung a suicide switch to
take his own life before the very eyes of the men who had come to capture him.
It had taken some time to find the outside wire that had supplied the power for the big machine. When
that had been cut off, the detectives had invaded the floor above the pit. There they had encountered two
foreigners evidently aids of the dead professor. The battle that had followed brought death to Sanoja and
Rasch, and wounds to two detectives.
A point over which Cardona passed lightly was the fact that the servants of Professor Urlich must have
been bound at the time the police had arrived. Possibly the scientist had overpowered them so that they
would not deter his suicide escape.
The trapped men had managed to loose their bonds before the detectives had accosted them. Remnants
of cords upon the floor accounted for the fact. But they had been unable to escape because the
detectives had barred the one way to safety.
Clyde Burke smiled as he wrote the story. Nothing was known of two prisoners whom the fiendish
scientist had doomed to die. No mention had been made of the part played by an unknown visitor from
the night.
There were other facts that Clyde did not know, yet which he, with his extra knowledge, suspected. All
these were summed in one tremendous point that the public would never know — a scoop that the Classic
would never print.
The hand of The Shadow! Hidden, invisible, but never failing, it was the power that had struck down the
master of silent death.
The Shadow had turned the tide of doom to sweep aside the villainous fiend, Professor Folcroft Urlich.
Unseen by the detectives, he had silently followed his rescued agents into the darkness of the night.
The truth of the monster's end must remain unknown to the world. But the story would be found,