paper； Wilderton！〃 The judge unfolded a sheet and gave it to the district attorney。 〃It is Wilderton's own stationery； but this sheet is of proper length。 pare it with the clipped statement that you filed in your office files and…〃
Stephen Ruthley interrupted with a harsh challenge。 He had no more need for smooth procedure。 Judge Benbrook was an enemy who had to be eliminated； so was Louis Wilderton； now that the prosecutor's eyes had been opened。 Ruthley shot his hand to his hip； he carried a gun there and he intended murder； expecting the support of Elvin Marclot and Kirk Borman。
The mayor was too dumfounded to make a move； but Borman shot his hand to his own pocket； whipped out a revolver and covered Ruthley before the boss could pull his gun。
〃THE game is up； Steve；〃 croaked Borman； sourly。 〃You're wanted for the murder of Adam Woodstock。 Marclot and I will have to tell all we know。 Don't blame me for it。 I'm not acting on my own。〃
Kirk Borman's words were suddenly explained。 A burly man stepped into view from the hallway； he was in blue uniform； he carried a police revolver。 The man was James Maclare； the grizzled police lieutenant wore a triumphant expression upon his weather…beaten face。 He spoke to Borman； the police director lowered his gun and let Maclare take charge。
Behind Maclare came three policemen from his own precinct。 He had brought them with him； and had left a squad outside。 In that instant； Stephen Ruthley guessed the answer。 The hand of The Shadow was behind this showdown。 Ruthley needed no news of the battles that had finished thugs and mowed down the Flying Squadron。 He was too concerned with his own Waterloo。
〃The graft money is in the filing cabinet； Maclare；〃 informed Borman through gritted teeth。 〃Millions of it！ Ruthley bundled it all； in case we had to make a break from town。 With the papers； too…〃
〃You double…crosser！〃 snarled Ruthley； 〃saving your own hide by squealing on the rest of us！ I suppose The Shadow shoved you into this？〃
Borman caught a glint in Ruthley's eye； one that he understood。 The police director's hard lips formed a smile； he gave a nod to show that he was ready。
Ruthley bawled a sudden order：
〃All right； Lance！〃
The picture on the wall ripped inward。 Men from beyond cracked the fastening loose as they hit the frame with full force。 Headlong into the room came Lance Gillick and Beezer Dorsch。 With them； they brought full proof of Stephen Ruthley's guilt。
Though other evidence stood as circumstantial； the presence of Beezer Dorsch； known murderer； in Ruthley's own apartment was a fact that would stand in any court。 It showed Ruthley's plicity in every crime that had happened in Westford。 It marked him as the big…shot of the crime ring； beyond all denial。
IN that startling moment； however； no one thought of that important detail。 Lance and Beezer were straightening； leveling revolvers that they knew how to use。 Maclare and the three officers were wheeling toward them； intent on dealing with these enemies； they forgot Stephen Ruthley。
The big…shot whipped out his revolver； at the same moment； Kirk Borman rallied with him。 Honesty did not appeal to the police director。 Ruthley had guessed that fact； was counting upon Borman to side with him； using the gun that Maclare had allowed Borman to bring along on promise that he would side with the law。
The Shadow had arranged all this； through Judge Benbrook； he had approved of Borman's cooperation。 The judge； dropping helplessly toward the wall； gained sudden fear that The Shadow's strategy had failed。 Lance and Beezer； breaking past the picture of Aramis； had equaled the odds of crime against the law。
Then came the finish。 Police guns ripped。 Lance and Beezer never had a chance against them。 Maclare and his bluecoats beat the two crooks to the shot； sprawled them with a deluge of bullets before they could recover from their hasty entry。
Judge Benbrook cried a warning。 Ruthley and Borman were ing to a counterthrust。 The advantage that the police had gained was lost。 Borman was aiming for Maclare； the director had gained the bulge on the sturdy police officer。
Death for Maclare…and the others； for Ruthley was a close second with his gun。 Such was the intent of crooks； but their purpose never carried。 Before a single gun could bark within the room； an automatic spoke from the blackened doorway where the full…length portrait had been。
There stood The Shadow。 He had entered by the passage； to watch Lance and Beezer。 He had let them crash through； but he was close behind them。 He had spared the two； so that the law could have them。 His battle was with another pair。 First； the double traitor； Kirk Borman。
The Shadow's first shot was aimed for Borman； a spurt of flame delivered a bullet that found the crook's heart。 Borman sagged to the floor； his gun unfired。
Stephen Ruthley performed the move that The Shadow expected。 He forgot Maclare； swung to deal with his arch…foe； The Shadow。
Two guns spoke at once。 The Shadow； as he fired； wheeled away； beyond the edge of the doorway。 He was on the move as he snapped the trigger。 Ruthley's quick bullet shot inches wide。 The master of crime never knew that his shot had missed。
For Ruthley had made no feint。 Standing his ground； hoping to beat The Shadow's shot； he received what he had sought to deal。 A withering bullet pierced the master crook's chest。 Forward； with a long sprawl； Stephen Ruthley flattened to the floor。
THE handcuffs were on Mayor Elvin Marclot。 His pompous pose gone； the last ace of the crime ring shivered as he eyed the bodies on the floor。
Lance Gillick； his evening clothes smeared with blood； lay sagged across the rough…clad form of Beezer Dorsch。 Kirk Borman's face was rigid in death； scowling its last expression of treachery。 Amid them lay Stephen Ruthley； his profile glaring along the tufted surface of an oriental rug。
Weakling of the lot； Elvin Marclot had survived； to do the task that The Shadow had offered Kirk Borman： to gain some leniency through a plete confession of all the crookedness in which he and others had aided Stephen Ruthley。
While Lieutenant Maclare and his loyal men stood stern and motionless； Judge Benbrook turned to Louis Wilderton。 Calmly； the gray…haired jurist reminded the district attorney that the meeting hour had arrived。 It was time for them to depart this scene and carry the news of real reform to honest men who had been Stephen Ruthley's dupes。
The space in the wall was blank。 The Shadow had not returned to it。 From somewhere off in the depths of the adjoining vacant house came a weird； mirthless laugh that might have echoed from another sphere of space。 The eerie tone faded； bringing silence。
That laugh was The Shadow's final triumph。
It marked the end of another life…risking battle against crime； and at the same time it presaged greater difficulties ahead。 The Shadow； who escaped death a million times； was to face a new kind of death； and a new kind of crime； in Death by Proxy； matching his wits against the wits of a master villain； and stacking his two guns against the arms of dozens of hirelings。 A strange menace hung over an ancient family home； death struck with uncanny regularity。 Into this scene of fear and danger The Shadow must enter； here he must fight anew that justice would not be misled； that criminals get their deserved punishment … death； real death； not Death by Proxy。
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