k upon his course； like a hare outrunning the hounds。
Shots ripped every time pursuers spied him； and The Shadow answered with bullets of his own。 He crippled the driver of the closest patrol car and put that machine out of the chase。 He picked another foeman from a motorcycle； just as the pursuer sped in from another street to block The Shadow's turn。
The Shadow knew that if he could outrun these foemen； he could reach the goal that he sought。 If he arrived at Ruthley's to confront the master rogue； The Shadow could force the big…shot to call off his hounds； under threat of instant death。
As the pursuit continued； The Shadow gained more distance； but new factors intervened to offset his purpose。
By heading toward the heart of Westford； The Shadow was running into new details of the Flying Squadron。 Radio calls were humming through the ether。 New units came in view at nearly every block。 Sheer nerve was all that saved The Shadow from disaster； twice he ran the gantlet of cars and motorcycles that sought to head him off； relying each time on quick stabs from his own guns to make the opposing marksmen falter。
Each time it worked； for the thugs who served as members of the Flying Squadron knew the identity of their dread foe。 Drivers instinctively changed course when The Shadow's big guns tongued。 Crooks could not fire accurately from their veering cars。
At last； a double circuit brought The Shadow to the railroad tracks。 He sped the roadster across； planning a last dash in the direction of Ruthley's apartment house。
Then came the trouble that The Shadow had hoped to avoid。 Shots flashed from a side street； to elude them； The Shadow drove into an alleyway。 New guns barked from straight ahead。 All came from men on foot。 The Shadow had entered Maclare's precinct。 The lieutenant and his bluecoats were answering the alarm that they had received just prior to The Shadow's arrival。
THE SHADOW jammed the roadster against the curb。 He dropped from it； darted back into the street that he had just left。 He saw an alleyway opposite； he took to it just as a burly man in uniform opened fire from beneath a street light。 It was Lieutenant Maclare； The Shadow could easily have dropped him where he stood。 But The Shadow's quarrel was not with loyal men。
Maclare bawled an order to his men。 Though he did not realize it； the lieutenant was shouting for the death of the very fighter who had saved his own life two nights ago。
Bluecoats responded； they chased along the alley that The Shadow had taken。 The Shadow had outrun them； but two police cars spotted him in the next street。 Recognizing these as belonging to the Flying Squadron； The Shadow stopped to deal with them。
He halted the first car with well…directed bullets； but he could not stop the second。 Bullets hailed from its windows； The Shadow gave a last volley； put away his emptied guns and dived for a space between two buildings。 A bullet clipped him as he sprang。 The thugs in the police car saw him falter。 They leaped to the ground； chased into the alley where The Shadow had gone。
More of the Flying Squadron arrived； so did the regular police。 Khaki uniforms mingled with blue； flashlights lighted space to show a blind alley that terminated in a high board fence； topped with barbed wire。 There were boxes and packing cases stacked all about； any of them might conceal The Shadow。
Lieutenant Maclare arrived to shout an order for men to advance and rout out the fugitive。 Before the order was obeyed； it was countermanded by a higher authority。 Director Borman had arrived； in harsh tones； he ordered the police to riddle the boxes at the end of the blind alley。
While bluecoats hesitated at the murderous order； Borman's khaki…clad henchmen opened fire。 Guns echoed between walls； bullets sprayed through boxes toppled stacks of them from in front of the fence。
With Maclare following； Borman strode forward。 He knew that The Shadow had been wounded； he expected to find the cloaked fugitive dead。 Nearing the fence； the director grabbed up the lowermost boxes and hurled them aside。 He stared； as Maclare's flashlight showed a jagged hole in the corner of the fence。
The Shadow had dived beyond those boxes； with one good arm； he had bashed the decayed boards at the lower left corner of the fence。 He had sledged those blows with an automatic； a few powerful strokes had done the necessary work。
The Shadow had shouldered through； while his pursuers had massed at the entrance of the alley。
Blobs of blood stained the cement at the bottom of the fence。 Those marks were new proof that The Shadow had been crippled。 Kirk Borman restrained a snarl as he turned to his men； in booming tones； he gave an order for a prompt search throughout the district。
Eyeing the bloodstains once again； Kirk Borman indulged in a sharp smile of triumph。 He was certain that The Shadow could not have traveled far； he knew also that the crippled fighter would not be able to put up a fight； when discovered。
Kirk Borman was sure that he would have good news for Stephen Ruthley tonight。 News that the menace of The Shadow existed no longer。
CHAPTER XVI
NEW REFUGE
MORE than an hour after The Shadow's disappearance； the first show ended at the Criterion Theater； one of Westford's most elaborate motion picture houses。 Among the throng that filed from the theater were Louis Wilderton and Estelle Benbrook。 The district attorney was speaking apologetically； when they reached the sidewalk in front of the theater。
〃I'm so sorry that we couldn't stay to the beginning of the feature picture；〃 stated Wilderton； 〃but I am terribly rushed with work at the office； really； I shouldn't have e to the theater at all tonight。〃
〃I understand；〃 said Estelle。 〃I do not mind； Louis。 e； let us walk over to the house。 You can leave me there and pick up your car。〃
As they walked along； Estelle added an afterthought：
〃Your work is your most important duty； Louis。 It will continue to be； until you have brought the murderer of Prescott Dunson to justice。〃
Wilderton blinked in owlish fashion； then formed a slight smile。
〃You spoke like your father； Estelle；〃 be remarked。 〃Do you know； people often speak of the fact that you so resemble him。 They hold a high opinion of Judge Benbrook in this city。〃
The statement pleased Estelle； Wilderton saw it； he questioned suddenly：
〃What is your father's real opinion of me？ Does he favor my re…election？
Or was he partial to Dunson's candidacy？〃
〃Father expressed no preference；〃 replied Estelle； soberly。 〃He said； however； that Westford needs a man of courage in the office。 A man who can do more than wish for results； one who can gain them。〃
Wilderton winced。 The words were a criticism of his own ability； or lack of it； but he was aware that the statement was justified。 When he spoke again Wilderton's tone was sincere。
〃I could step aside for the right man；〃 he declared。 〃I could not have dropped from the contest on Dunson's account； but if a man of greater prestige should run for the office…〃
〃Such as my father？〃
〃Yes； Estelle； a candidate of your father's caliber would help Westford。 I would not run for re…election； if he sought to bee district attorney。〃
〃Unfortunately； father cannot return to public life；〃 remarked Estelle； ruefully。 〃He seems wearied； it takes a physician's care to preserve what strength he still has。 I appreciate what you have said； Louis； so will father； when I tell him。〃
〃Your father was always a champion of reform；〃 reminded Wilderton。 〃The name of Judge Martin Benbrook would sway the public。 Such ardent reformers as Stephen Ruthley； such men as Mayor Marclot； Director Borman； and others of this fine administration…all would support Judge Benbrook's candidacy。 I repeat again； Estelle； your father is one man for whom I would gladly postpone my ambition to remain as district attorney。 If…〃
WILDERTON paused。 They were at the corner opposite the Majestic Hotel。
People were halting at the sounds of sirens。 A police car whizzed by； two motorcycles whirred and chugged as they swung the corner。 Everywhere were the khaki uniforms that denoted Westford's Flying Squadron。
〃It looks li