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pot； again to no avail。
The Shadow had dropped from the back of the roof； he was crossing the tracks of the railroad yard。 His quick shots clipped two marksmen who were firing at the roof。
A hoarse voice shouted from between two buildings。 It was the same leader who had issued the mand to get Maclare。 His new order was a mand for flight。 All thugs who were able； dashed for the street； crossed it and made off through alleys toward the front。 Others sprang back into the hotel。
Lieutenant Maclare shouted for pursuit。 Two of his eight men had fallen in the fight； leaving a pair to care for them； Maclare headed through the hotel； followed by the remaining four。
Inside； thugs were making for the front； Cassley and his detail let them go through。 Loud…whining sirens were announcing the arrival of the Flying Squadron。
Crooks should have found a new trap； but when Lieutenant Maclare reached the front door of the hotel； he witnessed a wild get…away。 The Flying Squadron； a score of men in pursuit cars and on motorcycles were ing in from the left。
Scattered crooks had converged to the right； there they were boarding an assortment of automobiles that were parked beside an old brewery。
As the Flying Squadron pulled up； Maclare bellowed the news and pointed past the brewery。 Promptly； the picked squadron took up the chase。
The brief delay had served the crooks。 Cutting through to another street； a dozen of them made a get…away； in three cars that contained four men each。
The three automobiles took different routes within the next few blocks； to split the pursuing squadron。 Maclare； fuming at the door of the raided hotel； heard the sirens fade in the dim distance。
THERE was a fourth car that had fled； it had taken a route of its own。
Rounding the brewery； this machine had followed a street that led across the railroad tracks； a block away from the Mississippi Hotel。 Swinging past a freight siding； the crooks…three in number…were greeted by shots from the shelter of a steel freight car。
Wildly； they fired in return。 Their bullets flattened on the steel wall of the freight car。 The driver； clipped by a slug from darkness； lost control and swung from the crossing。 His sedan jolted down a low embankment； slewed sidewise and crashed against a signal tower。
There was no stir within the car； when it halted。 Distant policemen heard the crash。 Footsteps racing upon sidewalks told that they were ing to witness the result。 One car…load of fugitives had been bagged； even though the other three had outraced the Flying Squadron。
Blackness moved from beside the freight car。 The purple light of a switch signal glowed upward to show a shrouded form； tall in its guise of black。
Gloved hands dipped mammoth automatics beneath the front of a flowing cloak。
Unseen lips voiced a grim laugh from the muffling front of an upturned collar。
Weird； chilling tones betokened the final stroke of the night's victory。
The sardonic mirth faded； as the cloaked figure passed from the purplish glow。
The battle was ended； The Shadow had left the field to the law。
OUT of darkness； The Shadow had arrived to deal with crime in Westford。
Into gloom； he had returned…after his efforts had saved the life of Lieutenant Maclare and a squad of officers。 Yet the chill of his eerie laugh seemed to hover； for that spectral tone had carried a touch that seemed to concern the future。
Like Lieutenant Maclare； The Shadow had recognized the significance of tonight's episode。 Fierce though the fray had been； it scarcely scratched the surface of the evil that lurked deep within this prosperous city。
Crime and death would be due again in Westford。 Here； evil was organized far beyond the extent that Lieutenant Maclare had guessed。 There would be need for more and greater effort before crime and corruption could be banished。
The Shadow knew those facts。 His appearance in tonight's battle was but proof that he had long been present in Westford； investigating the iniquity which held the city in its grip。
CHAPTER III
BEHIND THE SCENES
HALF an hour after the raid on the Mississippi Hotel； Lieutenant James Maclare arrived back at the first precinct station。 Muffled oaths and dull clatter greeted Maclare when he crossed the patrol room。 The sounds came from the cell room； where policemen had housed an assortment of hoodlums unloaded from the patrol wagons。
There had been many captures following the raid。 Cornered riffraff had thrown away their guns； to surrender； denying that they had carried weapons。
Practically all of these were men who had been inside the hotel at the beginning of the raid。
Lieutenant Maclare felt pleased as he took a seat at his desk and began to prepare a report。 Armed resistance had made the case against the prisoners a stronger one。 Maclare could see jail terms awaiting many of the participants。
Maclare's pleasure increased； when Sergeant Cassley knocked at the door to announce a visitor。 The arrival was none other than Kirk Borman； the police director。
Maclare was on his feet when Borman entered。 Tall； heavy of build； the police director was as much a fighter as Maclare。 Borman's face was sharp…featured； his lips showed a broad smile between his hooked nose and his pointed chin。 Advancing to Maclare's desk； Borman thrust a congratulating hand across the top； to grip Maclare's hand in a solid shake。
〃Fine work； Jim；〃 mended Borman； in a short…clipped tone。 〃You cleaned out a nest of bad eggs。 Carry on with it。 Go after the gilt…edged places in this precinct。〃
〃You mean the Club Adair？〃 queried Maclare。 〃That's one place I'd like to get； Kirk。 Lance Gillick has a gambling joint somewhere in back of that fancy night club front。〃
〃Go after it； tomorrow night；〃 ordered Borman。 〃Telephone me first； though。 I have two headquarters men watching things over there。 I'm going to drop in there this evening and look the place over for myself。〃
〃Lance Gillick will probably see you；〃 remarked Maclare。 〃If he does； he'll pass you a lot of smooth talk。〃
〃All the better；〃 decided Borman。 〃If he thinks I'm the man he has to deal with； he won't be expecting you tomorrow。〃
Kirk Borman clapped his hand upon Lieutenant Maclare's shoulder； then turned about and strode from the office。 Policemen saluted； as the director passed through the patrol room。 Outside the station house； Borman stepped aboard an official limousine and told the chauffeur to take him to the Club Adair。
LOCATED just within the limits of the first precinct； the Club Adair fronted on one of Westford's main streets。 The club itself was on the second floor； over a row of shops。
Alighting from his car； Kirk Borman entered a pretentious doorway and ascended a broad flight of thick…carpeted stairs。 At the top； he left his hat and coat at a check room。 Attired in tuxedo； the police director entered a glittering night club； where tobacco smoke clouded a thick throng of dancers who occupied the center of the floor。
An orchestra was producing strident music。 Buzzed conversation； bursts of laughter sounded everywhere。 The place was doing capacity business； a bowing head waiter was apologetic when he ushered the police director to an obscure table； behind a pillar。 It was one of the few tables that remained vacant。
A heavy…jowled man spied Borman immediately and came over to the director's table。 He was one of the headquarters men； he reported in an undertone：
〃They've been going through that door over there； a lot of em。 Looks like the gambling joint's on the other side…〃
Borman whispered an interruption。 The headquarters man silenced as the head waiter approached the table。 Directly behind the head waiter came a man in full evening clothes。 The arrival was Lance Gillick。
The night club proprietor was tall and long…limbed。 His manner was polished； his speech was suave。 His features were handsome； despite their sallowness。 His wavy black hair； his pointed mustache gave him a debonair air。
〃Good evening； Director Borman；〃 greeted Gillick； with a bow。 〃It is not often that I have the pleasure of meeting you here。 I somewhat expected your arrival tonight〃…Lance smiled； as he looked in the direction of the headquarters man…〃because I saw two of your advance agents。 This gentleman and the other； over by the wall。〃
Borman turned to the headquarters man。
〃Go over there； Thompson；〃 he ordered； 〃and bring Rhine here。 I want both of you to e along with me。〃
Lance Gillick arched his clipped eyebrows； as he heard Borman give the order。 When the two headquarters men arrived at the table； Borman snapped brisk words to Lance：
〃We're going through that far door； Gillick！ You can conduct us there！〃
〃With pleasure；〃 said Lance； with a bow。 〃e at once； director。〃
LANCE led the way to the door in question。 He rapped a signal； the door opened。 Borman and his men followed through into a large room； where some twenty people were seated at tables； laughing as they chatted and drank。 All were well attired； the men in evening clothes； the women in evening gowns。
The room； itself； was magnificent。 Its walls were adorned with huge oil paintings； the windows were covered by expensive velvet dra