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a place of absolute security。 With his aid； I can lift the lid。 I can not only tell the truth； I can prove it。〃
STOOPING； Dunson picked up the newspaper that he had dropped。 He opened it to the editorial page； pointed to a paragraph。
〃Look； Martha；〃 he said。 〃Already； they state that they expect to hear from Prescott Dunson； that I have promised to throw light on hidden corruption； to name men who have bled this city。 When I officially and publicly announce myself as candidate for district attorney； I shall wither the rogues whose names I mention。 I shall…〃
Dunson broke off。 A telephone bell was ringing in the hall。 With a nod to his wife； Dunson lowered his tone and ordered：
〃Answer it。〃
The woman laid aside her knitting； she went to the telephone； held a brief conversation。 She came back into the room； to whisper：
〃Someone wishes to speak to you； Prescott。 He says that his name is Shaw。〃
Dunson bounded across the room。 In the hall； he seized up the telephone； began a quick conversation。
〃Yes； yes。。。〃 Mrs。 Dunson heard all that her husband said。 〃Of course； Mr。
Shaw。。。 I knew that you would learn where I was living。。。 Yes； I have my car here。。。 The garage。。？ Right in back of the house。。。 Certainly。 I understand。
〃Twenty minutes。。。〃 Dunson nodded as he spoke。 〃Yes； I can make it in that time。。。 Parking lot beside the Majestic Hotel。。。 Up through the fire tower。。。
Room 304。。。 Very well； Mr。 Shaw。 I shall be there within a half hour。〃
Hanging up the receiver； Dunson came into the parlor。 He told his wife the import of the call。
〃Shaw wants me to meet him at the Majestic Hotel。 I'm going straight up to his room。 Pack my bag at once； Martha。〃
〃Is it safe； Prescott？〃
〃Absolutely！ I am to park my car by the side of the hotel； in that parking space that we've used so often。 I'll go in by the side door； up the fire tower to Shaw's room。 I'll call you； after I have talked with him。〃
Donning coat and vest； Dunson clapped a battered hat upon his head。 He went out through the kitchen； while Mrs。 Dunson started upstairs to pack the suitcase。
Five minutes later； Mrs。 Dunson arrived downstairs； carrying a light bag。
She heard the kitchen door slam； Dunson arrived； fuming incoherently。 Taking the bag； he explained the reason for his annoyance。
〃The battery is dead；〃 he told his wife。 〃I'll take the trolley into town。〃
〃Didn't Mr。 Shaw tell you to drive in your car？〃
〃Yes。 Probably； because I said that I had one available。〃
〃Perhaps you should call him at the hotel。〃
〃No。 That would be unnecessary。〃
Kissing his wife good…by； Dunson stepped toward the door。 He paused long enough to add a last assurance。
〃The trolley stop is only one block from the Majestic Hotel；〃 reminded Dunson。 〃That block is a quiet one。 I can walk along the left side of the street； in front of Judge Benbrook's old house。 Then I get past there； I can cross over to the parking lot； and enter the hotel as Shaw suggested。〃
LEAVING； the house； Dunson took to a secluded sidewalk。 The suburban street was deserted； Dunson felt secure as he paced in the direction of the car line。 He reached the car stop； stood under the darkened shelter of a large tree。
In a few minutes； a jouncy trolley car came along the street。 Dunson stepped into the glow of its headlight and halted it。
There were only five passengers on the trolley car。 None noted Dunson particularly。 Setting his bag on the seat beside him； Dunson shoved his hat back from his bulgy forehead and stared from the window as the car rolled along。
After a few blocks； the car halted。 A policeman stepped aboard the back platform； grunted a 〃hello〃 to the conductor。 The car started on； the officer remained on the rear platform。 The trolley had traveled another block before he happened to glance in through the door。
〃Say！〃 exclaimed the bluecoat； to the conductor。 〃Isn't that Prescott Dunson； the fellow that's going to run for district attorney？〃
〃Guess it is；〃 rejoined the conductor； peering through the door。 〃Looks like the pictures I've seen of him。〃
The cop whistled。
〃We got orders tonight to watch for him；〃 he informed。 〃On account of that battle last night； the police director's taking no chances。 Guess he figures there'll be crooks looking for Dunson。 Ring for a stop at the next corner。 I'd better put in a call to the precinct。〃
〃Want me to hold the car for you？〃
〃Naw！ I'll take the next one。 I wasn't told to go along with Dunson。
Orders were to report if I saw him。〃
The conductor signaled the motor…man。 The trolley stopped long enough for the policeman to drop off； then resumed its jerky course。 ing into the heart of the city； it was halted frequently by traffic lights； but took on few passengers。
After ten minutes； the trolley neared the corner where Dunson intended to get off。 The conductor； staring toward the street； noted that a touring car was loitering along beside the trolley； but he quickly forgot the fact。 The trolley swung into a one…way street； Dunson arose and pressed a button。 When the car stopped； the big man alighted at his corner。
DUNSON'S first move was to cross the street。 This brought him to the left side of a short block。 To his left was the looming bulk of an old…fashioned mansion； the residence of Judge Martin Benbrook； who was long retired from the bench。 There were two gates in the iron picket fence that ran in front of the old house。 One offered access to the front door； the other led to a side passage that ran to the rear of the house。
Just past Judge Benbrook's home； the remaining half of the block was posed of buildings with lighted fronts。 Across from them was the Majestic Hotel； on the right side of the street。 Nestled against the hotel were parked cars； scarcely discernible in the darkness of the parking lot。
Dunson strolled along at leisurely gait； he saw that he could easily cross the street unnoticed； after he had passed Judge Benbrook's。
It was when Dunson neared the second gate； that the first token of danger came。 A touring car had swung the corner which the trolley had left。 Its lights flashed suddenly from dim to bright。 Dunson's walking figure was outlined in their glare。 For an instant； the big man paused； hoping； the lights would swing away。 They did； but in their place came the vivid glow of a spotlight。
Prescott Dunson was caught in full view； turned half toward the side gate in the picket fence。 He was clutching his suitcase； blinking into the brilliance that had so plainly revealed him。 To his startled ears came the sound of a rasped mand； that delivered two words only：
〃Give it！〃
The suitcase dropped from Dunson's shaky hands。 In that tense instant； the doomed man realized that he was on the spot。
Prescott Dunson had walked into the snare of death。
CHAPTER V
DEATH DELIVERED
OTHER eyes than Dunson's had seen the sudden glare of the revealing spotlight。 They were eyes that were not blinded by the unexpected brilliance。
Across the street； but beyond the spot where Dunson stood； a lurking figure was watching from the shelter of cars stationed in the parking lot。
To that observer； the spotlight told its story。 He saw the helpless man caught in the path of light。 With a quick spring； this watcher came from his place of security。 Street lights showed him as a shrouded shape。 The Shadow was again on hand to offset crime。
Before thugs could obey the mand of their leader； The Shadow's fists came up。 With quick fingers； he pulled the triggers of automatics； dispatched whining bullets straight for the death car that lay almost between him and Prescott Dunson。 Cries came from the slowly moving touring car。 The Shadow had scored hits upon human targets。
Those shots saved Dunson for the moment。 They gave the doomed man a needed opportunity。 Close beside Dunson was the gate to the side passage that led beyond Judge Benbrook's house。 Had Dunson dropped his suitcase and pressed through the gate； he could have gained the shelter that would save him。
Instead； Dunson stood rooted。 He seemed hypnotized by the light that blinded him。 The death car veered； to escape The Shadow's bombardment。 While the automatics still tongued； a clatter began from within the touring car。 One crouching machine gunner had lain below The Shadow's fire； was pushing the muzzle of the death gun through the opening of a half…opened door； on Dunson's side of the street。 That killer profited by Dunson's lack of motion。 He let the doomed man have it。
The touring car sped forward； while bullets still streamed from its side。
The driver was low behind the wheel； the machine gunner was crouched on the rear floor。 Others were hanging from the side of the car while it ran the gantlet of The Shadow's fire。 One in the front seat； the other in the rear； two thugs had stopped the bullets that had entered the right side of the car。
The Shadow boomed last shots at the driver。 They failed to get him； for the rolling form of an intervening thug shielded the man at the wheel。 As the touring car wheeled leftward to the main street； The Shadow put a bullet through the gasoline tank； but the automobile kept onward and disappeared from view。
THE SHAD