The Shadow - The Shadow Laughs Part 21

As Blair Windsor stepped away, Harry suddenly obtained results. The whole section of shelves swung into the cellar, as though hinged. The flashlight showed a low, dark tunnel into the hillside.

"What about it?" questioned Harry. "Shall we go in? Or shall we wait?"

Blair hesitated. He paused, perplexed. He examined the shelves, and a.s.sured himself that they were loose. There was no danger of being trapped.

"We shouldn't separate," he said, quietly. "Better to stay together. I'll go first, Harry. You follow. We'llinvestigate and then return. If we run into trouble, use your gun."

HE extinguished the flashlight, and groped his way forward into the darkness. Harry followed, closing the shelves behind him. Thus they advanced, feeling the sides of the tube through which they were pa.s.sing.

Then they entered a larger cavern. They must be a hundred feet from the house, Harry judged.

"Shall I use the light?" whispered Blair.

"Let's listen, first," replied Harry.

Everything was quiet. The minute that they waited seemed very long.

"Here goes," whispered Blair Windsor. But before he could press the b.u.t.ton of the flashlight, the place was suddenly illuminated. From the other side of the underground room, two men sprang upon them.

Blair went down beneath the onslaught. His automatic was torn from his grasp. He was helpless beneath the body of the man who had seized him. He cried for aid as he was pinned to the floor.

By a skillful bit of dodging, Harry escaped his own adversary. He fired three shots directly at the man as he hurtled by.

The range was extremely close. The shots could not fail to take effect.

At the sound of the reports, the other enemy arose from the prostrate form of Blair Windsor. The man leaped forward, and as he did so, Harry fired three more shots. They were aimed at the man's body; but they did not stop his spring.

Harry fell beneath the man's bulk.

Then came a great surprise. Instead of being inert, the man was grappling, thoroughly alive. Harry was totally amazed. His bullets had failed to take effect.

It was too late now to fire again, for he had lost his hold on his gun when he had attempted to push away the body of the man whom he had presumably wounded.

For an instant, Harry gained the advantage. His eyes were toward the wall, and he saw the first man rising.

He, too, was uninjured! He piled in to help Harry's antagonist, and the struggle became hopelessly unequal.

Harry called to Blair Windsor. But no aid came. He caught a glimpse of Blair, half raised from the floor, resting on one elbow, watching the conflict.

One man had pinned Harry's arms behind him. A big fist loomed, and Harry received a vicious punch squarely on the jaw. The room whirled, and went black.

Harry Vincent lay helpless and unconscious.

CHAPTER XXVIII. BURBANK GIVES INFORMATION.

THE downstairs telephone rang in Lamont Cranston's home. Richards answered it. He recognized the millionaire's voice. He called Burbank.

The quiet wireless operator waited until the valet had left the room where the phone was located. Thenhe repeated the word that had come from Harry Vincent. He could tell that his employer was making notes of the information.

"All right," came the voice from the receiver. "Stay at my house, Burbank. I won't be home to-night."

Lamont Cranston emerged from the phone booth at the Cobalt Club. He nodded to a friend who was pa.s.sing. He went to the checkroom for his coat and hat. He also took a package that he had left.

The clock above the door showed twenty-five minutes of ten. Lamont Cranston glanced at it. His face betrayed no definite expression, but he murmured two words as he left the building.

"By midnight."

A limousine was waiting near by. The millionaire stepped in, and snapped an order.

"Move rapidly, Stanley," he said to the chauffeur. "To the airport."

The chauffeur nodded. A light drizzle was falling, and the street was slippery. But the powerful car moved speedily. The chauffeur found a street where traffic was light, and the automobile turned in the direction of the Holland Tunnel.

The rider in back was thinking. His mind was connecting events and piecing ideas together. Yet he remained totally silent. He seemed lost in the darkness of the car.

The limousine narrowly missed colliding with a truck. The silent pa.s.senger did not move. He said nothing to the chauffeur. Stanley grinned as he stared through the windshield.

"Funny," he muttered. "A couple of weeks ago the boss was nervous when he rode with me. That was just after he came home from a trip. Now look at him! Not a word-and that was a close one, all right."

The limousine roared through the Holland Tunnel. It whirled along the New Jersey highway at amazing speed.

Stanley had been a racing driver; but it was seldom that he was given opportunity to show his ability. He was at his best to-night.

The man in the back seat of the car opened the package which he carried. It contained various articles-most important were a black cloak, and a broad-brimmed hat. Lamont Cranston inspected them; then he wrapped them up again.

They were at the airport. The millionaire alighted, and stepped into the drizzle. A wind was blowing, but he did not seem to mind it.

"Take the car home, Stanley," he said.

The chauffeur's jaw dropped, as he displayed his amazement.

"You-you're not going up, to-night, sir?"

"Yes. Take the car home."

Stanley drove away, muttering to himself. He knew that his employer frequently traveled by airplane. In fact, Lamont Cranston had his own ship, and frequently hired an aviator to take him on trips.

The millionaire had a pilot's license, but only operated a plane in the best of weather. Stanley hoped thathe would have a good man on the job to-night.

The millionaire stopped at the hangar. He spoke to the man in charge.

"It's a bad night," was the comment he received.

Lamont Cranston nodded. Then he intimated that he was in a hurry.

His plane was ready. He climbed into it alone.

The motor roared, and the ship left the ground. It headed toward the northeast, and was swallowed in the black sky.

The visibility was very bad. The men on the ground shook their heads at the foolhardiness of the flight.

They knew very little of Lamont Cranston's ability as a pilot, and they were doubtful.

"Hope he can use his compa.s.s," said one. "I wouldn't like to be in his place."

The plane carrying Lamont Cranston hummed over Manhattan, the glare of the city's lights smothered by the falling rain.

The wind whistled through the fuselage; the air was b.u.mpy as the ship sped on through the increasing storm. Yet the pilot seemed indifferent to the threatening elements. He seemed like a shadow, in the cabin of the plane.

CHAPTER XXIX. HARRY VINCENT FACES DEATH.

HARRY VINCENT opened his eyes, and stared about him. He lay propped against the crude stone wall of the underground cavern. His hands were strapped behind his back. His ankles were also bound.

His head still ached from the blow that had rendered him unconscious.

Blair Windsor, also bound, lay a few feet away. There were three other men in the place.

One was Bert Crull; the second was Vernon; the third was the old man whom Harry had seen in the farmhouse.

"He's come to life," said Crull, looking at Harry.

"Fine," came the reply from the old man. "Now we can question him."

"Shall we wait until Jerry comes back?" asked Crull.

"He won't be back, right away," answered the old man. "You and he did quick work, all right, the way you nabbed this fellow."

Harry looked around the room. The cavern was lighted by several electric incandescents. Evidently the wiring came from the farmhouse.

An object that appeared to be a printing press stood in one corner. There was a table in another. The sides of the room were dim. Harry could make out chains, ropes, and boxes on the floor.

The men looked at Harry; then their leader, the old man, spoke to Bert Crull.

"You question him, Birdie," he said.

Crull sat on a box, and stared at Harry Vincent."Come on, Vincent," he said. "Give us the lowdown on what you've been doing around here. Windsor has told us all he knows."

Harry looked at Blair Windsor questioningly. The other prisoner nodded in corroboration.

"I had to do it, Vincent," he said. "This gang has got us. They may make terms with us, if we tell them all we know."

"I know very little," replied Harry. "I just happened to be visiting Blair Windsor. I noticed that people disappeared from his cellar. So I figured there was a pa.s.sage over to the farmhouse."

"You were snooping around the farmhouse, weren't you?" cross-examined Crull. "Why were you doing that?"

"I figured that it was the other end of the tunnel. That's all."

"Who did you see there?"

"You, one night. Vernon, another. Also the old gentleman, here."

"Ah! You looked in the second-story window?"

"Yes. I was just able to peek into it from the shed roof. I couldn't hold my position long enough to stay. I just caught glimpses on the two occasions I visited there."

"Hm-m-m." Birdie Crull was thoughtful. "What about the night some fellow grabbed you there? Who was he?"

"I don't know," replied Harry. "I got away from him."

"Listen, Vincent," interrupted Crull. "There's more to your story than you're telling me. Come clean, or it will be tough for you. Who sent you here?"

"No one."

"What else do you know?"

"Nothing."

Blair Windsor interjected a remark.

"We're up against it, Vincent," he said. "Don't hold anything back from Crull."

"He's got the right dope," said Crull to Harry. "We'll let you go, if you tell us everything."

"I've told you everything," said Harry sullenly.

Birdie Crull studied him for a short time. Then he turned to the old man.

"What will we do about it, Coffran?" he asked.

THE name came as a startling revelation to Harry Vincent. The old man must be Isaac Coffran-archenemy of The Shadow!

Harry had never seen Isaac Coffran. That master of secret crime had disappeared when he had been vanquished by The Shadow. No one had known where he had gone.This was Isaac Coffran's new center of activity! It meant danger -fearful danger. Harry congratulated himself that he had not betrayed his connection with The Shadow. What little hope he now had depended upon silence. For Isaac Coffran was merciless. Harry could tell by the gleam in the old man's eyes that he was planning some fiendish scheme.

"There's no use in bluffing any longer," said the master crook. "I'll take charge of him now. Let Windsor go free. That will surprise him, perhaps."

Blair Windsor was unloosed. To Harry's complete amazement, Windsor calmly joined the others. That brought revelation.