The Shadow - The Devil's Partner Part 9

The three separated. Kilby hurried silently upstairs. Minter and Swade made their way toward the library.

They went slowly to avoid the appearance of suspicious haste. They didn't want Lamont Cranston to suspect anything unusual was afoot.

THE SHADOW, however, was well aware that he had scant time to remain away from the library. Just about the time that Minter was finding the blackmail note in the billiard room, The Shadow was noiselessly closing the door of the safe in Minter's darkened study.

He had learned what he wanted to know. Inside the steel safe were fifty thousand dollars in cash. It was packed in a brand-new leather satchel, which had apparently been bought for that purpose.

The Shadow left no signs of his trespa.s.sing, either in the dark study or on the exterior of the safe.

He left the study with the same quiet speed with which he had entered it. Closing the window softly, he dropped back to the dark turf below. He headed through the clumped shrubbery to the window of the library.

In spite of the need for speed, The Shadow moved with habitual caution. An instant later, he was glad of that ingrained habit of his. Protected by his black cloak and by the darkness that shrouded the grounds, The Shadow was not seen by a prowler hidden near the library window.

The man was crouched close to the ground. All his attention was centered on that open library window.

So intent was his scrutiny that he tailed to detect the creeping approach of The Shadow.

Gloved hands choked off his startled cry. A terrific battle began between The Shadow and the unknown prowler. It was none the less fierce because it took place in complete silence.

The prowler ceased his attacking effort almost as soon as he realized the ident.i.ty of his black-robed foe.

With the knowledge that he was in the grip of The Shadow, he changed to a cunning bit of defense strategy.

His hand popped to his gaping mouth.

Something went into it. He tried to swallow convulsively.

The Shadow prevented that. The remorseless pressure of black-gloved fingers forced the tongue of the man from his gaping mouth. A damp sc.r.a.p of paper fell to the ground.

The next instant, one of The Shadow's hands left the victim's throat. There was a quick blow, a faint thud - and the prowler collapsed.

Easing him to the ground, The Shadow tied him up. He used a length of slim but tough cord that came from beneath the black cloak. A gag was forced into the victim's limp jaws.

Only then did The Shadow try to identify the pale face that was barely visible in the darkness.

It was a tough face, the face of a thug. Or rather, the face of a man who professed to be an ex-thug.

The Shadow laughed sibilantly as he recognized his captive. The man was k.n.o.bs Maletto, a waterfront crook with a criminal record as long as his arm. Maletto was out on parole. These days he was working along the Brooklyn waterfront as a longsh.o.r.eman. The police no longer bothered him.

The Shadow left his captive tucked out of sight in a dense ma.s.s of shrubbery. The flick of his pencil flash enabled him to read the paper the thug had vainly tried to swallow. The message made the eyes of The Shadow gleam.

It was a message that tied in cleverly with the note The Shadow had read earlier in the billiard room of Minter's mansion. It contained cunning instructions for certain secret duties of k.n.o.bs Maletto.

They were treacherous duties, that would still be carried out tonight. But k.n.o.bs Maletto wouldn't attend to them. The Shadow would take care of that little job!

He slipped noiselessly across the sill of the library window. A swift leap to a dark corner of the room hid The Shadow briefly from sight. When he appeared again, it was in the role of Lamont Cranston.

He darted to the screened alcove where Cranston had made a few notes on the construction of rifles and firearms from the rare books in Minter's collection. He picked up the pen and yawned.

He was just in time.

The door of the library was quickly opening. Jonah Minter and Simon Swade appeared.

SWADE did the talking. He didn't trust the quavering tones of Minter. "We just stopped in to say good night on our way to bed," Swade remarked smoothly. "Our host has a splendid idea. He suggests a gla.s.s of spiced wine before retiring. Will you join us?"

"Delighted," Cranston said.

A moment later, Kilby came into the room with well-a.s.sumed carelessness.

"What goes on?" he asked. "A little discussion before bedtime?"

"Better than that, old man," Swade said. "We're about to have a gla.s.s of spiced wine as a nightcap.

Would you care to join us?"

"Try and ignore me!" Kilby joked.

Pellman was summoned. He returned after a while with a silver tray on which reposed four gla.s.ses of spiced port.

"Just leave it on the table, Pellman," Minter said. "You may go."

"Let me serve the drinks," Kilby smiled. "I'm an old hand at things like that."

"No, let me," Swade insisted.

The two friends jostled jokingly in their effort to pick up the tray. Under cover of that jostling, Kilby dropped his tablet into one of the gla.s.ses.

It dissolved instantly, leaving only a tiny web of bubbles, which soon faded. It was a neat bit of trickery on Kilby's part, shielded by the shoulder of his companion.

But it was trickery that was wasted on The Shadow. Expecting a spiked drink, he was on the watch.

He permitted the sinister joke to be played to its climax. As the waiter, Kilby removed his own gla.s.s.

Swade also took his. The tray was presented swiftly to Minter before Lamont Cranston could reach it.

That deft only one possible gla.s.s for The Shadow.

He drank leisurely. As he drank, he replaced the book he had removed from the bookcase shelf.

The small amount of wine he had taken into his mouth didn't go into his stomach. He got rid of it when he turned his back to put the book away.

The rest of the wine went just as smoothly into another receptacle - a deep vase on a console table alongside the bookcase.

When The Shadow turned back to the others, his gla.s.s was apparently just leaving his lips. Again his sleight of hand stood him in good stead - as it had earlier in the billiard room.

Cranston talked a while, but he seemed less and less interested in the conversation. More and more he yawned. Finally, with a smiling apology, he drew attention to his extreme sleepiness.

"Good night, gentlemen. I don't know when I've felt so deliciously drowsy. See you all at breakfast."

In his bedroom on the top floor, Lamont Cranston undressed noisily. If anyone was listening outside his closed door, they would have plenty to congratulate themselves about.

The bed creaked as Cranston climbed heavily onto it. He pulled the bed covering awkwardly across hischest. It showed unmistakably that Cranston had undressed completely and donned his pajamas.

Presently, his breathing became heavy.

He waited, confident that he would soon have a visitor.

He was not mistaken. The bedroom door opened slowly; a dark figure crossed the threshold. It moved with stealthy silence.

The figure leaned over Cranston, listening to his heavy breathing. After a moment, a hand moved gently downward. A finger rested lightly on one of Lamont Cranston's closed eyelids. The eyelid didn't quiver.

The figure retreated. The bedroom door closed. Silence followed.

It was a silence that Lamont Cranston did not disturb for nearly five minutes. Then he rose from his bed, dressed rapidly in the darkness of the top-floor bedroom. When he was fully dressed, he moved toward the window.

But it was not Lamont Cranston who moved. A black cloak made him seem part of the darkness. A slouch hat hid the flamelike gleam of wakeful eyes.

The Shadow was on the move to prevent criminals from victimizing the deluded Jonah Minter.

The Shadow intended to match trickery with trickery!

CHAPTER X. THE SHADOW'S SHADOW.

THE bedroom window was closed and locked. The Shadow released the catch and lifted the sash. From beneath his cloak he took a coil of strong rope. With the coil over one arm, The Shadow stepped lightly to the outer sill of the window.

It was dark outside. A pale moon like a small sickle barely showed above the top of the trees. The only sound in the darkness came from the wind rustling through leafy branches.

The Shadow was glad of that wind. It would cover whatever noise he would make when he used his rope. He had already made a deft running noose. He intended to take to the air as the quickest means of reaching the ground from this top-floor sill.

But a swift glance from his narrow ledge told him that he had scant choice of methods. In fact, he had only one choice.

To slide directly downward from the sill was impossible. The window below his own was lighted. So was another window closer to the ground. To pa.s.s those windows would be a gamble with luck. Tonight The Shadow was leaving nothing to luck.

A swing to a tree was almost impossible. The nearest available branch was too far away.

Knowing his special need, aware of the location of every tree that towered skyward near the house, The Shadow wasted no time.

His glance lifted to the roof above him. The roof would take him farther away from the ground, but at the same time it offered a convenient route to a more favorable spot for rope work.

The noosed rope of The Shadow swished aloft. He made two casts before he was satisfied. Then the noose tightened. It was looped over a projecting cornice above. The Shadow's feet left the window sill. Hand over hand, he climbed the taut rope.

A quick clutch and a deft heave of his muscular body brought him bellying over the roof edge to a slanting surface. It was no surprise to The Shadow to learn that the roof was peaked. There was little about this house, inside or outside, that he hadn't made it his business to know.

Removing the rope from its cornice anchorage, he crept swiftly up the steep slant of the roof to the peak, slid carefully down the other side. Soon his feet were braced against the curved gutter of the roof on the other side of the mansion.

The trees on this side were much closer. A tall oak offered easy possibilities to a man of The Shadow's skill. His thrown noose tightened over a high branch.

The Shadow stepped off into empty blackness.

He had pulled his lifeline taut enough to allow no slack. It wasn't a free fall into s.p.a.ce, but a swing. His body plummeted outward like a jungle monkey at the end of a trailing vine.

He whizzed past the thick foliage of a lower branch on the oak, caught a quick grip. It was stronger than the la.s.soed branch above. It bore the weight of The Shadow easily.

The branch higher up had bent sharply, under the pull of The Shadow's daring pendulum swing. That was an advantage The Shadow had counted on. It was easy for him to loosen his noose with a deft jerk or two.

The noosed end dropped. The dangling rope was swiftly recoiled. It vanished under The Shadow's cloak.

He descended the oak swiftly.

A LIGHT from the window of Minter's study told him that the deluded banker and his two helpful "friends" were securing the satchel of money from Minter's safe. As The Shadow watched from the dark base of the oak, the light went out.

The trio were ready for action. They were convinced that they need fear nothing from the chance interference of the drugged Lamont Cranston.

The Shadow was ready, too. Having read the note in the billiard room, having also learned the secret instructions to k.n.o.bs Maletto, The Shadow wasted no time.

Like a part of the night itself, he raced through the darkness of the grounds. He hurried to the stone wall that enclosed the estate.

A glance showed him the hollow tree just inside the wall, near the locked driveway gate. The rough bark near the hollow opening in the tree was marked with a white X in chalk.

Laughter whispered at the lips of The Shadow. He ducked past the hollow tree. A swift leap brought him upward to the top of the stone wall. He dropped outside into the deserted lane that led to the estate from the main highway.

The opposite side of this lane was thickly wooded. Jonah Minter had purchased the tract and left it wild in order to guard against unwanted neighbors.

Thanks to the message that k.n.o.bs Maletto had tried in vain to swallow, The Shadow knew exactlywhere to look. He soon uncovered a fair-sized hole in the tangled underbrush across the lane from the estate wall. The well-camouflaged hole led downward in a slant into the earth tunnel.

The Shadow crawled from the slant. Six feet beneath the surface, the slant changed to a horizontal pa.s.sage. It was not a roomy tunnel. It had obviously been hastily dug. Earth sc.r.a.ped at The Shadow's shoulders as he crept swiftly through.

The direction of the tunnel told him where he was heading. Under the lane, below the stone wall of the estate - straight to the hollow tree that was marked with an X in chalk!

Presently, a flat chunk of rock blocked The Shadow's advance. He pulled the rock sideways, slid it behind him. Rising, he found himself within the hollow trunk of the tree.

He remained there only a few seconds. From the darkness within the estate grounds his sharp ear had caught the unmistakable crackle of twigs. Furtive steps were approaching. The Shadow saw a brief flick from an electric torch.

He dropped downward inside the tree and slid backward into the tunnel. Quickly, he pushed the rock plug into place again at the foot of the hollow tree. He didn't wait to listen to the advancing whispers of Kilby and Swade and their deluded victim.

Silently, The Shadow retreated through the earth tunnel.

He emerged from the concealed entrance across the lane. Then he vanished into darkness.

MEANWHILE, Minter and his two companions had reached the hollow tree. Kilby carried the leather satchel with the blackmail money. Simon Swade had a gun. Minter was carrying a flashlight.

Minter sent the ray of the torch into the hollow tree. He saw nothing to make him suspect trickery on the part of his two "friends."