Every vein tingling, he left the bedroom and crossed the floor of the laboratory. Maintaining a steady grip on his automatic, he pushed the door open and stepped out into the hall. A chorus of shouts greeted his appearance. Men in various stages of attire were running excitedly up and down the corridor, but all stopped at sight of the tall, tense figure standing with his back against the laboratory door. His eyes, hard as steel and swift as speeding arrows, surveyed them narrowly with a long, comprehensive sweep. The barrel of his automatic, held in readiness for instant action, glimmered ominously in the dim light shed by a single bulb in the ceiling.
"The Gray Phantom!" was the hushed whisper that went back and forth in the huddled crowd. A spell seemed to fall over them as they stared at the man of whose amazing exploits they had heard and read, but whom few of them had seen until now. But their inaction lasted only a few moments. Some of the bolder ones were already crowding forward.
"Stop!" cried The Phantom. The gong had ceased ringing, and his voice rang sharp and clear down the hall. "The first man that moves will get a bullet."
Momentarily awed by the metallic tones, the crowd fell back. The Phantom's glittering eyes seemed to encompass them all in their sweep, and there was an air of desperate determination about his tense, slightly crouching figure that impressed them strongly.
The situation was the most critical The Phantom had ever faced, yet he felt a tingle of triumph as he surveyed the huddled throng. Any one of them could have crippled or killed him with a well-aimed shot, but not a hand moved. For the moment, at least, he was holding them in subjection through the sheer strength of his domineering personality and his attitude of utter fearlessness.
Someone laughed, and The Phantom's eyes turned to Slade, standing on the outer fringe of the crowd. He held a pistol in his hand, but the muzzle was pointed downward.
"You must be crazy," he said contemptuously. "Can't you see that you are outnumbered eleven to one?"
"I hadn't taken time to count," said The Phantom calmly. In the same instant a crack and a flash of fire came from his automatic. One of the crowd, more intrepid than the others, had ventured forward as he spoke, and now a yell of pain signified that The Phantom had aimed straight.