The Shadow - The Shadow Laughs Part 23

"Been making counterfeit money, and unloading it, for a long time, haven't you? Well since you're in the business, you'll know my name when you hear it. I'm Vic Marquette, of the secret service."

An audible gasp came from Vernon's lips. The old engraver knew that name and dreaded it. Vic Marquette heard the gasp.

"You were in the jug once," said the Federal agent. "I'll have you placed before I'm through. Making an easy living here, eh?

"Well, I've caught the four of you, and I'm going to tell you the low-down before I march you out of here"-the secret-service man was handling his automatics as though his fingers itched to press the triggers.

"The other government men thought the phony bills were being made in New York," he said. "But I knew different. I traced a few of them up to Springfield; then I found some in Brookdale. Not many, I admit; but two or three were enough to show me that you fellows were operating strong in this vicinity.

"I had suspicions about the old farmhouse. I hung around there a bit. That's where I nabbed that fellow you have in the box. Thought he was with you.

"I kept him in a shack for a couple of days. Then he got away. That's why I came here to-night. I'm alone. All alone. That's the way I work. You might have wised up if I had brought a crowd with me.

"Your old farmhouse was deserted when I came there, an hour ago. That meant one of two things-either that you skipped or were in your hangout. So I looked around the cellar a bit."It took me a little while to find the entrance to your tunnel. But I'm used to looking for places like that."

Marquette looked at Harry Vincent.

"I'm going to leave you where you are, young fellow," he remarked. "But I'll be back later on."

He dropped one automatic into his pocket, and brought out a flashlight in its place.

"We're going to hold a parade," he said, quietly. "It's about five miles down to Brookdale, and you fellows are going to march all that distance with your hands up; and I'll be behind with my gun.

"The first sign of monkey business-out you go. There's ten bullets in this gat. That's six more than I need; and I have another loaded gun in my pocket."

He walked among the helpless men, and reached in their pockets. He found revolvers on Crull and Coffran. He threw the automatics in a corner. Then he went over to the tunnel through which he had come, and stood facing the group.

"Line up," he said.

The men formed as commanded.

"Look out!" cried Harry Vincent.

Before Marquette could heed the warning, a man fell on him from the tunnel. The new arrival had come out of the blackness; the noise of his approach had been drowned by the Federal agent's command.

THE attacker had skillfully seized Marquette's automatic with one hand, and as the two men rolled on the dirt floor, the gun fell to the ground. That was the signal for a ma.s.s attack.

Crull and Windsor sprang forward, followed by Vernon and Isaac Coffran. The struggle was fierce, but brief. Vic Marquette lay helpless. Vernon brought ropes, and the secret-service man was bound.

The man who had come to the rescue walked to the center of the room. He was stocky, and clad in old clothes. He looked like a native of the district; but his face showed a cunning expression.

"Good work, Jerry," congratulated Isaac Coffran. "You came at the right time."

The rescuer grinned.

"Listen, Jerry." The old man's voice expressed disapproval. "Did you pa.s.s any of the phony cash over in Brookdale?"

Jerry nodded.

"Then it was your fault that this fellow came on our trail. Well, you've made amends for it. We've caught Vic Marquette-the secret-service man who works alone."

"What will we do with him?" questioned Birdie Crull.

"b.u.mp him off, of course," replied the old man. "There's nothing else to worry us. We might as well finish this fellow Vincent at the same time. Get it all over with."

"We were going to make Vincent talk," observed Crull.

"I know it," replied Isaac Coffran, "but that's hardly necessary. If he's working alone, as he says, hedoesn't matter. If he comes from The Shadow, we don't have to worry. Tiger Bronson got the Shadow."

Harry Vincent groaned. Now he understood why he had received no detailed reply by wireless. The Shadow had been killed; the few orders that Harry had received came from his agents-not from the master mind. There had been no message over the air from WNX at nine o'clock.

"Want me to b.u.mp them off?" questioned Birdie Crull. His voice indicated that the taking of a life was no great matter to him.

"No," replied Isaac Coffran, thoughtfully. "We'll leave that to the working of natural laws. You may be an accessory to the crime, if it pleases you."

HE went to the center of the cavern, and lifted a wooden slab in the ground. Beneath it was a deep pit, covered by an iron grating, fastened with a padlock.

The purpose of the pit was obvious. It served as a drain for any water that might enter the cavern.

Isaac Coffran unlocked the padlock, and tugged at the iron grating. It was too heavy for him to lift. Birdie Crull a.s.sisted.

"Put them in here," said the old man. "Cut them loose. Let them fight to get out. It won't do them any good."

Harry Vincent was lowered first. He was held above the pit. Vernon cut his bonds; then Crull and Jerry dropped him before he could struggle free. He fell into slimy mire at the bottom of the pit. The walls were slimy, too. He could not scale them.

Staggering to his feet, he stood to one side as Marquette came tumbling into the pit. The secret-service man's bonds had been cut. He and Harry were trapped together.

The grating clanged shut, and the padlock snapped. They could scarcely reach the grating with their hands.

The end of a hose came through the grating. Isaac Coffran's fiendish scheme was now apparent. He planned to fill the pit with water!

It meant sure death for the men imprisoned there. The top of the pit was above the grating. They would be drowned like mice in a wire trap.

Water began to come through the hose. Harry seized the end of the rubber tube and twisted it. It was pulled from his grasp by Birdie Crull, who stood above.

Crull arranged the hose so that it did not pa.s.s through the grating. The bars were too close together to reach through.

The water began to rise in the pit. It was simply a question of time before it would be above the heads of the helpless victims.

Neither man cried out. They whispered grimly in the darkness of the pit, seeking to devise some plan of action.

The water reached their ankles; their knees; their waists. Still they muttered, suggesting hopeless ideas to overcome this menace.

The water was up to their shoulders. Its rise had been slow; a few minutes more still remained.The men in the cavern above waited for the fateful moment.

Birdie Crull was laughing. Blair Windsor's face was sober. Both Vernon and Jerry appeared to be taking the affair in a matter-of-fact manner.

Old Isaac Coffran had retired to a corner. He was out of sight, behind the printing press. His face displayed a fiendish grin, as he waited in the darkness. He did not care to observe these trivial preliminaries.

He was waiting for the end. When Crull would signal that the water was above the victims' heads, Isaac Coffran would come forward.

He would enjoy watching two men die.

CHAPTER x.x.xI. ENTER THE SHADOW.

THERE was scarcely a sound in the cavern as the water continued to rise in the pit. None of the five rogues spoke; the prisoners did not cry out. Only the gurgle of the increasing flood broke the stillness.

Blair Windsor stared at the tunnel that led to his home. He could not watch the pit. Let the others gloat.

Death, to him, was a solemn matter.

The blackness at the end of the tunnel seemed like a solid wall. Blair Windsor's mind was concentrated upon it, as he sought to forget the gruesome work that was taking place a few feet away.

"They're pretty near under," observed Birdie Crull, with a chuckle. "No! They've just pulled a cute trick.

They've pulled their faces up against the grating. We can give them five minutes yet."

The seconds went by monotonously for Blair Windsor. He still stared at that black opening. He imagined it to be a solid structure.

Suddenly he detected motion. He rubbed his hands over his eyes. The end of the tunnel was projecting itself into the cavern!

It was impossible!

Yet he was not mistaken. A portion of the blackness entered the cavern. For an instant it seemed to be a shapeless ma.s.s; then it suddenly took form.

A figure stood in the light-the figure of a living being, clad in a black cloak, wearing a broad-brimmed slouch hat that totally obscured his face.

Birdie Crull looked up suddenly as an involuntary exclamation came from Blair Windsor's lips.

"The Shadow!"

The words were uttered by Birdie Crull. A look of intense fear came over the gunman's features. He clambered to his feet, away from the grating.

TWO automatics appeared from beneath the black cloak. They covered the four men: Crull, Windsor, Vernon, and Jerry. The counterfeiters raised their hands instinctively. They needed no command to make them fear the menace of The Shadow.

The figure moved to the center of the cavern. It stood above the pit, where the two men were fighting for life. Their faces were pressed against the grating. The water was nearly above their heads. In less thanone minute their doom would have been sealed.

There was a motion at the bottom of the black cloak. The hose was kicked aside. Its flood poured along the floor of the cavern. The lives of the prisoners were saved for the time.

The Shadow turned toward Blair Windsor. He spoke now for the first time. His voice was ominous-it came in a low, sinister whisper.

"Open the grating," were his words.

Blair Windsor stood helplessly. He did not have the key. It was in the possession of Isaac Coffran.

He could see the old man cowering fearfully in the corner-out of The Shadow's view. What should he reply?

Birdie Crull realized the situation. Fear had gripped the brutal gunman, but by an effort he endeavored to mislead the man in the black cloak.

"We have no key," he said.

"Break the lock," was The Shadow's command.

Birdie Crull stepped forward as if to obey. He made as much noise as possible. Looking beyond The Shadow, he saw Isaac Coffran reaching stealthily along the floor. The old man's objective was an automatic -one of those which Marquette had thrown in the corner, after he had disarmed the counterfeiters.

By holding The Shadow's attention, Birdie Crull hoped to keep the man in black from detecting the presence of Isaac Coffran. Birdie Crull's poker face gave no sign of what was in his mind.

The gunman reached the grating just as Isaac Coffran picked up the automatic. Crull lowered his hands, and stooped to fumble with the lock. He was only a few feet from The Shadow.

At the instant Birdie Crull began to shake the padlock, Isaac Coffran raised his arm and fired point-blank at the tall man in the black cloak.

Quick as a flash, The Shadow whirled backward and away from the grating. The old man's shot had evidently missed. But now came his real opportunity.

For The Shadow encountered the box of counterfeit money. As he tripped against it, he nearly lost his balance.

Before he could raise his automatics to fire a return shot, he formed a perfect target for Isaac Coffran's aim.

The old man's hand was steady now. He had hoped for this. His automatic spat three times. A satanic sneer appeared upon his face as he watched The Shadow, expecting the tall form to crumple.

But The Shadow did not fall!

The automatic which Isaac Coffran had seized was the one which Blair Windsor had given to Harry Vincent. Birdie Crull had pocketed it; Vic Marquette had taken it from him. Six of its blank cartridges had been used by Vincent; Isaac Coffran had fired the other four!

THE SHADOW did not return the shots. Instinctively, he scented danger from another direction; Jerry,profiting by the sudden change in the situation, was whipping a gun from his pocket.

The Shadow sank to the floor. For an instant, Isaac Coffran still believed that his shots had found their mark. But the move of the fighter in black was voluntary; made with definite purpose.

Jerry's revolver barked, but the bullet whizzed above the broad-brimmed hat. Then came an answering report from one of The Shadow's automatics.

Jerry's right arm fell helpless at his side. His gun slipped from his nerveless fingers.

Isaac Coffran was not yet foiled. He had a moment in which to work. His position was an excellent one; the switch that controlled the lights of the cavern was less than ten feet away.

With youthful agility, the old man sprang toward the desired spot. The Shadow, wheeling, fired a single shot. It was aimed while in motion; yet it would have found its mark in Isaac Coffran's wrist, but for the intervention of a rod that projected from the printing press.

The bullet was deflected. Isaac Coffran reached his objective. He extinguished the light; the room was plunged in darkness.

Like rats, the counterfeiters scurried from the cavern. Their one desire was to escape the wrath of The Shadow. They did not know that the eyes of that mysterious foe were accustomed to the dark; that he could discern their departing forms.

It was only because he had observed something else that he chose to let them flee in safety. Birdie Crull, before he joined the mad departure, had thrust the end of the hose above the grating.

The water was now completely above the heads of the imprisoned men. The Shadow had other work to do.