Tree boughs waved a welcome from the moonlight above. The raft came floating up through a great hole that had once marked the site of Pow-wow Boulder!

No men were there to join in the greeting. Even The Shadow's agents hadn't guessed the simple but surprising mode of exit that their chief would use to escape what seemed an absolute death-trap. Like others who had witnessed the singular transformation of Stony Run, The Shadow's aides had been attracted to other centers of excitement.

Shots were coming from two directions; namely from the mansions that flanked the dividing stream.

Something was happening at Bigby's and Brett's.

Something was also happening to Bigby and Brett.

Time and again, Claude Bigby had come storming from The Gables to shout orders at the farmers who had long been his unwitting dupes. To-night, some of those same farmers were doing service for Bigby.

They were watching Future Haven to see that Bigby's rival caused no more trouble.

Similarly, Preston Brett, as master of Future Haven, controlled his own pack of friends. They were watching The Gables to see that Bigby stayed where he belonged.

So the same situation ruled both sectors of the slope.

Only the men who came suddenly from those houses weren't the men who belonged there.

When Claude Bigby staggered, water-soaked, from the futuristic mansion, it would have been bad enough if he had faced Brett's crew. But to come from the home of the man he most hated, was something Bigby never should have done. In fact he never would have--if The Shadow hadn't started him in the wrong direction and supplied a tidal wave to spur him along the route.

There was anger in the faces of the faithful farmers. Instead of dulling it, Bigby gave himself away.

Creswold's car was standing handy. In sudden panic, Bigby made for it. That was enough. It told his former friends exactly who had driven the car up here. That Bigby had entered Brett's house and gone by tunnel to his own, was evidenced by his water-soaked condition. Only Stony Run could be responsible.

With shot-guns turning his direction, Bigby made his final mistake. He swung savagely from Creswold's car to aim with his revolver. His intent was so obviously murderous that the farmers couldn't hold their triggers. Four of them beat Bigby to the shot--his revolver was empty. Bigby had wasted all his bullets trying to hold back an imaginary pursuer called The Shadow. In his present madness, he had forgot it.

Claude Bigby wilted under the heavy blast of shot-guns. Those shots were answered by the echoes of distant gunfire from the other side of Stony Run.

Those other shots spelled doom for Preston Brett.

In coming from The Gables, Brett had copied Bigby's error. He looked quite as much the water-rat. The men who met him included a few of his tricked investors, plus several bonus-starved mill workers. They had expected Bigby. They weren't pleased to see Brett, but he was smart enough to recognize it.

Waving his gun back into the old house, Brett shouted something about Bigby. That made his hearers think he'd finished his rival in an actual duel. They were starting in to find out, when another car arrived.The temptation of a running motor was too much for Brett.

Using his gun as a threat to bring the driver out, Brett leaped to the wheel. He swung the car around. His gun was empty, too. This was proved when he aimed it at his own friends who came from Bigby's door.

By the time Brett was away in the borrowed car, the others were in theirs.

Brakes were something Brett didn't think about until he neared the bottom of the drive. The car didn't stop until it bounced into the rock-studded Kawagha. It submerged itself completely. Brett was now very dead.

Margo's car was stopping warily at the spot where the highway crossed Stony Run. She felt shaky after what she'd seen at Future Haven, where Harry Vincent had remained. Clyde and Cliff had witnessed the happenings at The Gables, but they hadn't seen the finish at the bottom of the driveway. Again, that had been Margo's privilege. She was stopping to regain her breath after watching the car go bouncing over the embankment.

Stony Run was roaring again. It had filled the cavern that temporarily obstructed it. Flashlights were surrounding a man who was stranded on a raft. The fresh tide had carried him almost to the road. The lights showed Herbert Creswold explaining things to the men who were helping him from the raft. They were in a mood to listen and believe--especially when Creswold amplified his data by handing over proof in bundles of reclaimed money.

The door of her car closed softly. Margo found she was no longer at the wheel. The car was starting under the guidance of the driver who replaced her. It was a black-cloaked figure whose hat-brim dripped water like a rainspout.

Across the bridge to Lamira, the car turned upstream. It sped toward the old road by which The Shadow and Margo had first entered the Kawagha Valley. As they reached the spot where The Shadow had disappeared that afternoon, he sent back a trailing laugh that carried a strange note of departing triumph.

Weirdly that laugh lingered in the moonlight. It reverberated over an area that had been thick with thunderclouds the day The Shadow had arrived. That difference gave an added significance to The Shadow's appropriate farewell.

The Shadow had cleared the scene of crime. Bigby and Brett, those partners in greed, had failed in the cause they had hoped to prolong with equal profit.

No longer would Lamira remain a town of hate!

THE END.