hting The Shadow made her magnify his plight； and she started the roadster； feeling positive that he would arrive in crippled condition and need someone to drive him away。
She realized； then； that she should have stopped to pick up her robe and slippers； but it was too late to get them。 So Margo promised by getting rid of the bathing cap； so she could shake her hair loose。
The roadster's seat was deep； and anyone noticing her head and shoulders would think that she was wearing an evening gown and driving home from a party； instead of being a fugitive direct from the Equator swimming pool。
As Margo wheeled the roadster about； she saw a figure vault the balcony； run and drop to the roof of the garage； but it wasn't The Shadow。 She recognized Nayre； and he didn't stop with the garage roof。 Instead； he leaped across it and jumped to the ground； just ahead of shots that police began to fire from the balcony。
Taking it for granted that revolution had broken out amid the Durez faction itself； Margo thought that the police pursuit of Nayre was quite legitimate。 Though she had liked his looks when she first saw him； that wasn't going to help him； at present。
Nayre； it happened； had a way of helping himself。 He saw Margo at the moment she forgot him。
A cab was starting away。 It was the cab in which The Shadow had arrived。
Remembering her former impression； Margo had an idea that The Shadow was in it and decided she ought to overtake the cab； to give him a chance to change vehicles。
On that inspiration； she pressed the accelerator； just too late to avoid taking on a passenger。
The passenger was Nayre。
He opened the door just as the roadster spurted； and before Margo could shift to the brake pedal； Nayre decided matters for her。 He still had his revolver； and he nudged Margo with it； telling her firmly：
〃Keep right ahead； as fast as you can go！〃
MARGO kept ahead。 She wanted to overtake the cab； but couldn't quite manage it。
Guns were popping off like firecrackers； somewhere back； and police cars were whining to the chase。 Up ahead； an armored truck was roaring off into the maze…like depths of Miami Beach； and the taxicab was heading after it； which Margo wanted to do； too； but Nayre decided otherwise。
In a tone as frigid as his gun muzzle； he ordered：
〃Turn right。 We're going north。〃
They turned right and went north at full speed； with Margo giving a last frantic glance toward the departing taxicab； hoping that The Shadow would see her。 He couldn't have； thought Margo； or the cab would have stopped and returned to follow her roadster。 Instead； the cab kept right ahead。
One reason that it kept ahead was because The Shadow did see Margo and the passenger in her car。 If there was any man who deserved a break for freedom； that man was Nayre。 Not only did The Shadow know； he was sure that Margo would understand； in due time。 But there were other men； who deserved no chance at all： Murk Wessel and his crew in the armored truck。
Since he was on their trail； The Shadow stayed with it。 His last word to Margo was a parting laugh that she was too far away to hear！
CHAPTER V
VANISHED CRIMINALS
THE chase through the streets of Miami Beach was unique in the annals of that city。 In a sense； it wasn't a pursuit。 It was a case of worriment。 Any attempt to overtake and crack an armored truck was out of the question。 The thing to do was keep the crooks on the go； until they gave up through weariness and exhaustion of their ammunition。
The Shadow set the style； and the police promptly copied it。 Attracted by the sounds of shots； one police car cut into the scene； to see a taxicab spurt toward the truck and swing into a zigzag。
A few shots from the cab window enticed a whole deluge from the truck； but the responding bullets didn't count； because the cab； by then； had veered into another street。
So the police car took a stab at it and found that it worked。 A few blocks more and the cab reappeared； giving an example to another police car that had rallied to the chase。 Soon； the truck was veering； too； its occupants fearing that the annoying cars would form a blockade against it。
There were times when the truck managed to disappear； but always it was flushed again； whereupon it opened fire wildly； and fled。
It was much like a fox hunt； except that no one shouted 〃Tallyho〃 and the fox was being very weary。 This fox； by name； Murk Wessel； had a big chunk of the Centralban treasure in his possession and didn't want to be treed。 But the more he drove in and about Miami Beach； the worse his plight became。
Two long bridges offered outlet from Miami Beach： one； the Venetian Way； the other； the County Causeway。 Each had a drawbridge； that could be raised by sending word ahead； and Murk's futile efforts to shake off pursuers had wasted enough time for the draws to be set against him。
There was another route； to the north； which Nayre had been smart enough to take at once； but Murk hadn't。 That route narrowed as it proceeded； and Murk had seen police cars speed off to block it。
A well…laid barricade would turn Murk's armored truck from a mobile menace into a stationary fortress； which could be starved out； if nothing else。 Eating ten million dollars wouldn't be very healthy； particularly with so much in gold。
So the truck began new tactics。 It cut in and out of streets around Dade Boulevard； a diagonal thoroughfare that made a patchwork out of ordinary squares。 It looked like a game of hide…and…seek； and nothing more； for invariably the truck was spotted and forced to roar away again。
At last； it popped into sight over a bridge crossing Collins Canal； and suddenly cut southwest along the boulevard； which led to the Venetian Way。
It was then that the taxicab came back into the picture。 ing over a humped bridge that crossed the canal； it overtook a flock of police cars that were trailing the truck at a respectful distance。 Daringly； the cab sped up behind the armored vehicle。
The police didn't recognize what was going on in the cab。 Its driver； of course； was obeying The Shadow's order； as he had all along； for the ominous presence of a black…cloaked passenger from nowhere was enough to mand obedience。 That； however； did not explain why The Shadow ordered such a daring course。
The Shadow had noticed that the police cars were appreciably closer to the armored truck than Murk and his crew had previously allowed。 The Shadow wanted to know why the fugitives weren't shooting back。 His quick foray toward the truck was acpanied by vigilance。
He was telling the taut…nerved driver to veer away the instant he received the mand。 So far； The Shadow had managed to pick 〃outs〃 the very instant that mobster guns talked。
This time it wasn't necessary。
Though the cab wheeled almost to the rear of the fugitive truck； no shots came from the armored vehicle。
Inspired by The Shadow's example； the police cars made a spurt。 They saw the cab make a sudden swing； as though to dodge a ing gunfire； but no shots occurred。 The swerve sent the cab jouncing on to the tree…lined sidewalk across the boulevard from the canal； but the police cars continued the chase。
Apparently； the crooks were out of ammunition； and had simply bluffed by poking guns from the rear of the truck。 Such wasn't the actual case however。
The reason The Shadow ordered the cab's veer was because he saw no guns at all！
AS soon as the police cars had whizzed past； the forgotten cab backed from the sidewalk； bounced over the curb and turned around； to speed back toward Miami Beach。
As the sounds of police sirens dwindled； The Shadow laughed。 He could anticipate the surprise that the Miami Beach police would find。
It came when the armored truck jerked to a necessary stop at the raised drawbridge on the Venetian Way。 The police piled from their cars and reached the truck； dodging its dangerous rear door。
They saw a scared driver at the wheel； both hands raised。 He lowered one when the officers beckoned； and opened the front door。 Springing into the truck； the police found it empty。
Murk Wessel and the remaining members of his picked crew were gone； to a man； and the coffers containing millions had vanished with them！
Shakily； the driver was explaining things。 Gunmen had told him to keep looking ahead。 Generally； they had said： 〃Keep going！〃 But occasionally they had ordered halts； when a hiding policy seemed preferable。 He remembered that the last stop had been somewhere near one of the many canals that made a veritable Venice of the western section of Miami Beach。
They'd told him to wait about a minute and then start for the boulevard； to head straight for Miami。 He had an idea that they'd gone out the rear of the truck during that wait； but he hadn't been too sure。 He'd feared that at least one lurking crook had stayed on board； to make sure instructions were obeyed。
By the time the truck driver reached that stage of his story； the cops were no longer interested。 They realized how they had been duped。 Murk and his tribe had dropped off； swag and all； to take a water route； sen