lot and Borman。
〃No need for Marclot to go also；〃 declared Ruthley。 〃He should stay with us； to discuss matters。 I shall call him back。〃
Leaving Wilderton； Ruthley overtook Marclot and Borman at the door of the apartment。 The three went into a quick huddle。 Ruthley； as usual； was the brains。
〃Get over to the garage；〃 he told Borman； tersely。 〃If that pill…box is empty； we'll know that Wilderton is right。 If he is； head for Judge Benbrook's； to make sure they haven't rolled in there。 The Shadow will be bringing the judge with him。〃
〃Where next？〃 queried Borman。 〃Out to the house where we're keeping the judge？〃
〃Yes。 Lance has already ducked out to call the cottage。 He heard Wilderton's blab from behind the picture。 Leave some of the squadron at the judge's house。 Take the rest with you。〃
Borman hurried from the apartment。 Ruthley purred calming words to Marclot。 The mayor steadied。
〃Keep Wilderton bluffed；〃 reminded Ruthley。 〃He will prove useful to us。
Remember； we have Lance and Beezer covering up。 Borman will be back before it's time to go to the meeting at the Civic Club。〃
Marclot nodded； as they walked back through the hall。 He made whispered ment：
〃You've got the swag； Steve？ In case…〃
〃It's all in the file cabinet； with the papers。 Forget it； Elvin。 We've had the best break in the world！ The Shadow slipped us； he thinks he got away with it。 That puts him right into our hands…this time to stay！〃
Mayor Marclot managed to smile in pompous style； as he came back into Ruthley's den to resume the talk with Louis Wilderton。 That smile was forced； but the one that wreathed Stephen Ruthley's lips was not。 The master crook smiled with real relish。
Often before； Stephen Ruthley had seen his hunches e through。 He was confident that another such result was due tonight。 To Stephen Ruthley； The Shadow's finish was a settled matter。
CHAPTER XXIV
DOUBLE BATTLE
CREEPING men were closing inward through the darkness。 They were the thugs whom Lance Gillick had sent from Westford； to keep a circled watch about the old mansion that had been Judge Benbrook's lodging overnight。 Audible ments passed among these armed hoodlums。
Word passed along concerning Lance's call to the cottage。 The cordon was to tighten； then drive in hard upon the smaller crew within the house。 Crooks knew the identity of the men whom they were to attack。 They were ready with a vengeance； these thugs； to deal with agents of The Shadow。
Some were keeping lookout for The Shadow himself。 He had e and gone as Trig Callister； they had let the sedan ride through。 None knew if Judge Benbrook had gone out on that last trip； there was a chance that he was still within the house。 If so； The Shadow would be back。 He would fare badly when he came。
First the agents； then The Shadow。 As for Judge Benbrook； the finger had pointed toward him also。 This was to be a massacre； beginning with a surprise attack upon the mansion that stood so silent within the very center of the creeping horde。 The house； itself； was open to attack。 Every window would offer entry for invading thugs。
The tightening process ceased。 Evil fighters were ready for mand。 They were under the leadership of two whom Lance had deputed to such duty。 Those two manded more than a score of gorillas； the dregs of the scum who had so long been rampant in Westford。 Some of the crew； in fact； had been members of the horde that had gunned for Lieutenant James Maclare。 Brave through power of numbers； they had boasted their wish for another contact with The Shadow。
It was the moment when a mand seemed imminent。 Thugs waited for rasped orders。 Suddenly； the stillness broke； but not with the expected mands。 From somewhere； like a ghostly taunt； came a strident； mocking laugh through the darkness。
The laugh of The Shadow！
THE cloaked fighter had arrived。 He had left his car a safe distance away； he had slipped through a net of enemies set to watch for him。 He was in the circle itself； and hard upon his mockery came the proofs of his actual position。
Automatics tongued from blackness； stabbed flame picked out crouching hoodlums。 As snarling fighters spun about； they heard yells from their crippled panions。 The Shadow had first located thugs amid the darkness。 His first shots counted。
〃The Shadow！ Get him！〃
As a mobleader roared the mand； thugs sought to obey。 Twenty against one； they had their opportunity； they would spot The Shadow if he fired again。
They did not realize the purpose of The Shadow's opening shots； they did not guess that he had withdrawn for the moment。 Those shots had been a signal。
An instant later； floodlights glared from the beleaguered mansion。 Crooks were bathed in the brilliance that came from upper windows。 The Shadow had applied the very method that crooks had found so useful in the past。 His agents had set up searchlights； ready to use them when the signal came。
Crooks were as bewildered as Maclare's bluecoats had been； that night at the Mississippi Hotel。 Wildly； they turned toward the house。 Remembering The Shadow's marksmanship； they fired for the floodlights。 The brilliant orbs remained unshattered。 These searchlights were equipped with bulletproof glass。
Rifles crackled from below the brilliance。 The Shadow's agents were at the ground floor windows； clipping the savage hoodlums who fired back in vain。 Like wild tribesmen； thugs started for the house； thinking to dislodge The Shadow's agents with wide…aimed bullets and curdling yells。 The rifles crackled on； at close range。
Crooks sprawled； as they kicked up the earth； others broke。 They dashed for the limits of the lighted ground； followed by steady shots。 Reserves； the ones posted to watch for The Shadow； came up with encouraging shouts； for they were blanketed by night。 They were met by another fire： The Shadow's own。
The attack was ended。 Those thugs who could； went scattering into the night。 The Shadow's strident laugh resounded； it added impetus to the speed of the survivors。 It was a signal also； at the sound of the weird call； the searchlights were suddenly extinguished。
TO fleeing crooks； the darkness brought new dread。
Pursuers might be anywhere； everywhere。 Each thug who fled fancied himself the only one who had escaped； for more than half the horde had sprawled upon the turf。 The same had happened with the cluster of reserves； The Shadow had driven bullets into their very midst。 Some thugs found cars； they sped away from beyond the cottages； heading away from the direction of Westford。 The others took to the brush； making the best time that they could on foot。
The Shadow had classed these toughs as mass fighters only。 They had behaved in typical fashion； once their attack had bee a rout。 New silence dominated the mansion； then； from a space in front； came a hoarse whisper。 It was 〃Hawkeye〃； he had e out to join The Shadow。
The cloaked chief answered。 He gave Hawkeye new instructions。 Hawkeye slid back to the house。 Soon men came stealing outward through the darkness。 They were The Shadow's agents； ready for new battle。 The first had taken less time than the limit The Shadow had set。
Choosing the banks along the dirt road； The Shadow's agents waited。 Their chief had gone somewhere ahead； again they listened for his signal。 Lights appeared； police cars and motorcycles came in caravans all manned by the khaki…clad thugs who called themselves the Flying Squadron。
The Shadow waited until the last car was abreast of his position。 Again； his strident laugh rang forth。
Cars halted at the startling cry。 Automatics tongued an opening message。
Fake cops wheeled about； aimed for the spot whence the shots had issued。 Again； The Shadow was gone； but his agents took their cue。 From the sheltering embankment； they ripped away with automatics； raking the whole line of the halted squadron。
Bullets winged tires； windshields。 They found the occupants of cars。
Khaki…clad men dived from their machines； left their motorcycles and scattered on foot。 This time； floodlights were unneeded。 The cars and motorcycles of the unsuspecting squadron were targets enough。
From the rear； The Shadow pummeled shots along the road。 Uniform