The Shadow - The Death Sleep Part 8

They had circled the house, knowing that a rear attack was the one method of entering The Shadow's improvised redan. As The Shadow swung, a revolver barked from the distant end of the porch. A bullet singed the flowing side of The Shadow's cloak.

Luke Gonrey was the mobster who had fired that shot. He had come up the parapet, boosted there by Spud Claxter. The gorilla had taken quick aim, just as The Shadow whirled. Had The Shadow merely spun about, Luke might have dropped him. But The Shadow, ever alert, had swung toward the front parapet as he turned.

Before Luke could deliver a second bullet, The Shadow pressed the trigger of an automatic. His aim was hastier than Luke's; it was also better. The slug clipped the gorilla's shoulder and sent Luke groaning from the parapet, into the arms of Spud Claxter.

The Shadow's laugh resounded. Spud did not wait for more. Shoving Luke to his feet, the mobleader started for the hedge, dragging his henchman with him. Meanwhile, The Shadow was weaving swiftly along the porch, firing shots at the blackness above the parapet, to stop any new attackers.

The Shadow had exhausted one brace of automatics. He had drawn a second set and still had slugs remaining. As he neared the end of the porch, he dropped to the new shelter that the wall afforded; then suddenly arose and peered into the darkness below. He sensed that the last attackers had fled. Then, asproof of The Shadow's belief came the roar of starting motors from beyond the hedge.

The Shadow fired through the darkness. Had the path been clear, he might have stopped the final flight.

A cl.u.s.ter of big trees stood between this end of the porch and the hedge. Bullets lodged in ma.s.sive trunks; those that sped clear were not sufficient to halt the cars in which Spud and others were escaping.

The Shadow knew that the raiders were beyond reach; the men with the swag had probably gained a car parked in the road below the house. Staring though the darkness, The Shadow saw lights glaring from a house three hundred yards away. He knew that the gunfire had caused an alarm. The police would soon be here.

The Shadow tried the front door of the house. He found it open. He crossed a gloomy hall and ascended a flight of stairs. He found an open door; a light from an inner room beyond it. The Shadow entered.

Close by the inner door, he stumbled across the body of a servant. The man was rigid.

Peering into the inner room, The Shadow saw four other figures. One was that of a second servant, sprawled upon the floor. The man held a gun. There was a desk in the center of the room; there The Shadow observed the other three.

One was a man some sixty years of age. He was seated behind a mahogany desk. His hands were resting upon the woodwork. His dignified face, embellished with a white mustache, was straight toward a younger man who sat opposite. This fellow, too, had been caught in the midst of conversation.

The third man was at the side of the table. He was middle-aged, with a thick-set, hard-boiled countenance. His position was the most unusual of all. The man had half risen from his chair. He was leaning heavily upon the desk, his weight supported by his left hand.

The man's right hand was just above his pocket. It clutched the b.u.t.t of a gun; The Shadow could see the glimmer of the half-drawn revolver. Like the others, this man was stiffened in the stupor of the death sleep.

THE SHADOW did not enter the room. His keen eyes could see tiny drops of moisture upon the surface of the mahogany desk. These were rapidly evaporating. They were the last traces of the condensed gas that had produced this strange scene.

There was still a chance that fumes remained; if so, they would be gone when the final drops had dried.

The Shadow did not need to enter. He looked across the room and saw the closed door of a safe. That told the final story.

The swag had come from this room. The raiders had entered after delivering the knock-out bombs. The Shadow's laugh was soft but grim. He knew the reason for the handkerchiefs that had been upon the faces of the fleeing raiders.

Those had not been necessary so far as the victims were concerned. They had been used to hide something that chance, distant witnesses might otherwise have observed. Beneath the covering of large bandanna handkerchiefs, the successful raiders had worn small gas masks to cover their nostrils.

Goggles, perhaps, in addition, to protect their eyes beneath the handkerchiefs.

Shouts from in front of the house. Police had been summoned by the neighbors. The Shadow took a last glance at the desk in this silent room. The final drops of moisture had dried. The Shadow moved into the outer room, found an unlocked window and emerged. He descended by the heavy ivy on the stone wall.

As he reached the ground, he could hear thumping footsteps pounding up the inner stairway. The arriving rescuers had made straight for the house. They had not yet begun to search the grounds.

Ghostlike, The Shadow moved off through the hedge. His hidden shape followed the side lane. The Shadow had found no need to linger.

The raiders had escaped; the surrounding mobsters had been overpowered. The Shadow had seen the new victims of the death sleep. He had learned the motive of crime - the robbery of that safe in the second story room.

Though he had not frustrated crime, The Shadow had wreaked vengeance upon a horde of mobsters. He had broken up the forces which opposed him. He had forced a change in coming plans; he had made it necessary for Spud Claxter to produce a new crew before further crime would be possible.

But most important of all, The Shadow had verified a fact which he had suspected. The scene of the crime had told him the definite truth. The raiders had been equipped with more than the gas bombs that had been used as Seth Tanning's. They had worn masks that had proven an efficient protection against the fumes that they had loosed.

The crooks had gained the neutralizer that they needed. How? Where? The Shadow knew; and that knowledge inspired the whispered laugh that sounded in the darkness of the little lane. The Shadow was thinking of Harry Vincent's report.

He knew that the false hospital attendant had been a crook. He knew why Skeet Wurrick had visited the blind alley in back of Hoffer's Pharmacy. Crooks had profited through the experiments made by Doctor Seton Lagwood.

A preparation had been stolen; it had served as an effective neutralizer. Men of crime were ready for new endeavor. The law was in ignorance of their methods. But not The Shadow. When crime again rode high, The Shadow would be prepared to meet it with an unexpected thrust.

CHAPTER XII. THE BIG SHOT PLANS.

ONE hour after the fray at the house on Long Island, Spud Claxter arrived at Wolf Barlan's apartment.

Spud's face was glum. When Wolf received him in the lighted living room, he knew at once that disaster had been encountered.

"Well?" snarled the big shot. "Did you fliv the job? What happened out at Currian's?"

"They got the swag," returned Spud. "Skeet and Zug - the two guys with them - knocked out Currian and the others who were in the house. What happened after that was the trouble."

"Let's hear it," growled Wolf.

"Well," reported Spud, "there was a lucky break to begin with, Skeet must have got the glim before I showed up with the outside crew. Any way, he and the bunch were in before we got there."

"Skeet got the signal all right," acknowledged Wolf. "I told you I had a good guy planted in there. It don't hurt if you know his name now. His part of the job is done. It was Tully Newel, working in Currian's as a servant. He scrammed as soon as he flashed the glim. Gave me a call and hopped a rattler to Buffalo.

Well - that's that. Go on with your story."

"We covered the house," related Spud. "Seen the inside crew come out. Then somebody fires a shot alongside the house. Wings one of the bunch with Skeet. That started us."

"It ought to have. What did you do? Close in?" "Yeah. We knew the guy was by the house. We was out to get him, Wolf. Then all of a sudden we hear a laugh. Handed me the shivers, that laugh did. Somebody spots the front porch with a flashlight - and there he was."

"Who?"

"The Shadow."

Wolf Barlan had paused to pluck a cigarette from the box on the table. His fingers relaxed when he heard Spud's statement. The cigarette struck the table and bounced to the floor.

"The Shadow!" exclaimed Wolf.

"Big as life," responded Spud. "Up on the stone rail of the porch, giving us the ha-ha."

"And I suppose you dummies took it on the lam, eh?"

"No. That's where we made our big mistake. Those gorillas I picked wouldn't run from n.o.body. They began to open up with their smoke-wagons. The Shadow did a nose dive."

"Clipped him!"

"That's what they thought" - Spud's tone was rueful - "until they barged in on that porch. Then the boys got theirs. The Shadow had pulled a stall - that was his trick. Up he comes and gives the outfit the works."

"Yeah?" barked Wolf. "What was the mob doing? Standing by and giving him a college cheer? Where was their gats? Did they throw them away?"

"They used their rods," retorted Spud. "But they couldn't do no more than knock off hunks of rock from that porch wall. The Shadow was behind it, picking off every gazebo that fired at him. I saw what was happening. I ducked around the house with a gorilla named Luke Gonrey. Tried to plug The Shadow from in back. Luke took a pot shot at him and missed. Then The Shadow crippled Luke."

"So you scrammed?"

"Yeah, dragging Luke with me. There was one other gorilla managed to get back to the cars. We beat it in a hurry."

WOLF grunted. The big shot's face was troubled. Wolf was picturing the events that Spud had related.

He realized that Spud's mob had at least covered the get-away of the raiders who had the swag. Spud caught the thought.

"I came in to the hideout," he stated. "Found Skeet and the others there. They had the guy that The Shadow wounded. He ain't bad off. But Luke Gonrey and that other gorilla - well - we got to get them somewhere."

"Where'd you leave them?"

"The other side of the bridge. Lucky I did, too. There's cops on the bridges looking over all the cars that are coming in. Guess The Shadow scrammed and after that the bulls showed up at Currian's."

Wolf Barlan paced back and forth across the floor. He was worried; but his mental state seemed to spur his planning. A fierce leer showed on his ugly face. "Figuring on something, Wolf?" queried Spud.

"Yeah," returned the big shot.

"Don't forget them two guys," reminded the mobleader. "You ought to know some place where I could lug them. There's a sawbones I know down on the Bowery; I don't think the bulls have been watching him."

"Leave that to me," a.s.sured Wolf. "I got a couple of places where I could send them. Used to have plenty of gorillas get in trouble when I was handling that night-club racket. I'm just thinking of the best place.

"But I'm thinking of a lot besides. I'm thinking of The Shadow. He's trying to crimp the game. That means we've got to shift our plans. Sit down, Spud, while I go over this. I'm working it out."

Spud seated himself in an easy-chair and watched Wolf pace back and forth. At times the big shot's expression denoted worry; at intervals it cleared, finally it showed a triumphant grin. Wolf took a chair opposite his henchman.

"Listen, Spud," announced the big shot. "When you deal with The Shadow, you've got to be smart.

That's why I'm making new plans. First of all, I'm trying to figure out how he got wise about tonight's job.

There's only one way he could have."

"Trailing my mob?"

"Yeah. It's a cinch he don't know about the hideout; but he probably knows you're in the game. That worries you, eh? Well, it worries me just as much; but I see an out for both of us. I know a way that'll fix everything."

SPUD managed a sickly grin. Wolf's words had actually worried him; the a.s.surance that the big shot had some scheme began to give him restored confidence.

"The Shadow don't know you're hooked up with me," stated Wolf, in positive fashion. "That's something that he's not going to know. I was wise when I picked you" - Wolf paused to chuckle - "on account of your having worked for a lot of guys that were running rackets. How's The Shadow going to know which one you're with? Get that idea?"

"But if he trails me here, Wolf -"

"He won't. You're not coming here. You're not going round the hideout, either. Leave that to Skeet and Zug. Say" - something important occurred to the big shot - "did you look over the swag?"

"Yeah. A couple of hundred grand, mostly in securities."

"Including the bonds that Throckmorton brought with him?"

"Yeah. Skeet grabbed them first."

"All right. We'll leave them lay at the hideout. You stowed them in that hidden safe, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"Either of us can get them when we want them. They're hot right now; we'll let them cool. When I say you're not going round to the hideout, I mean not unless there's something special that's got to be done.

Don't chance it unless you're sure The Shadow's not on your trail." "I get it."

"We're going ahead with the next job," a.s.sured Wolf. "Skeet and Zug work from the hideout. They're safe enough. But you keep on the move; never let n.o.body track you."

"I got to get a new mob," reminded Spud.

"Yeah," agreed Wolf, "to do the cover up on the outside. But you can do that on the quiet. Be careful of the gorillas you pick. Don't get any more than you have to. Send messages to them, like you did before.

And pull that stunt of having them start out from the garage and come across you on the way."

"I did it tonight, Wolf. But The Shadow wised -"

"Maybe he'll wise again. All the better. You and the mob will be watching for him. If we've got to blot out The Shadow, we'll do it. Anyway, the big point is that no matter what he does, he can't find the hideout through you and he can't trace me.

"You're safe, too" - Wolf was prompt in adding this a.s.surance - "if you use your noodle. Let the gorillas do the heavy work. Stand back and keep the old skull working. You used good judgment tonight. Say, Spud, maybe you'll get The Shadow."

The thought seemed to please the mobleader. Wolf grinned, satisfied that he had aroused his chief henchman's eagerness for new combat. The big shot arose from his chair. He walked over to the door.

Spud arose and followed.

"Scram," advised Wolf. "Phone me, but don't come around. Be careful, all the time."

"What about Luke?"

"I'm thinking of him. Give me a call when you get back to where he is. I'll tell you where to take him and that other gorilla."

"We may have to dodge the cops at the bridges."

"Don't worry about that until you hear from me."

As soon as Spud had gone, Wolf went to the telephone. He put in a call and held a short, cryptic conversation. That completed, he settled in his chair, to await telephoned word from Spud.

THE mobleader had been wary when he left the apartment house where Wolf lived. Spud had parked his coupe half a block away. He reached the car and drove eastward. He crossed a suspension bridge and noted bluecoats still on duty, inspecting westbound cars that looked suspicious.

Spud reached a small cl.u.s.ter of stores that fringed a portion of the boulevard. He stopped the coupe and alighted. He entered a store and put in a call to Wolf's apartment, hoping that by this time the big shot had decided what to do with the wounded gorillas.