The Shadow - The Shadow Laughs Part 24

A spurt of flame came from the muzzle of his automatic. The bullet shattered the strong padlock.

Dropping his gun, the rescuer in the black cloak clutched the bars of the heavy grating.

It had taken the efforts of two men to lift it; now he pulled it upward as though it were made of paper.

His powerful hands caught the two prisoners-one hand beneath an arm of each. The steel-like grip did not falter. Harry Vincent and Vic Marquette were raised from the pit to which they had been doomed.

Gasping for breath, they rolled upon the floor of the cavern.

Out of darkness The Shadow had come. In a few brief minutes he had outwitted his opponents. He had rescued the two men who had been at the point of death.

Yet there was still work for The Shadow. The enemy had escaped. They must be pursued.

The mysterious avenger of the dark was ready for the chase.

The Shadow never yielded.

CHAPTER x.x.xII. THE LAST ATTACK.

IN their flight from the underground cavern, the counterfeiters had chosen the most accessible exits. Four of them had fled through the tunnel to the farmhouse. Only one-Isaac Coffran-had chosen the way that led to Blair Windsor's home.

Reaching the cellar of the mansion, the old man closed the shelved door behind him. Then he arrangedtwo iron bars so that they made it impossible for any one to open the secret door from within.

He went upstairs calmly, and sat at the telephone. He called the number of the farmhouse. The shaky voice of Birdie Crull replied.

"All safe?" questioned the old man, in a querulous tone.

"Yes," replied Crull. "Just getting ready to blow away from here. We wondered where you were."

"Wait!" The old man's voice was urgent. "You can't go yet."

"It's the only thing to do."

"What! Leave them in the cavern?"

Birdie Crull did not reply. Then Isaac Coffran delivered an important message. He pointed out the predicament in which the counterfeiters now were placed. If The Shadow had rescued Vincent and Marquette, they would testify against the counterfeiters. If the two men had drowned, all the gang would be guilty of murder.

Crull agreed on these points. He explained that he had replaced the hose, and that it was unlikely that either Vincent or Marquette had survived. That left only The Shadow-a powerful, invisible menace.

"We've got to get him," snapped Isaac Coffran. "We've got to make sure the others are dead. We have The Shadow where we want him, now."

Then the old man explained his plan. He would remain alone at Blair Windsor's. He had barred the door.

He would be there with an automatic, in the cellar. There were several guns available in Windsor's room.

The others-with the exception of the wounded Jerry-must attack at once. They could proceed quickly and silently through the tunnel. Then they must shoot to kill.

"Suppose he gets us," objected Crull.

"What if he does?" inquired the old man. "You'll all be in for it, if he gets away. The police will be on your trail in no time-and the whole secret service, in addition."

Birdie Crull held a rapid discussion with the others in the farmhouse. The parley resulted in agreement with Isaac Coffran. Crull told the old man that they would attack immediately.

IT was a desperate group that entered the tunnel from the farmhouse. Birdie Crull led the way, carrying the only available small arm. Blair Windsor and Vernon followed, each armed with a rifle. The weapons had been obtained in the farmhouse. Jerry remained by the entrance.

Once the expedition had begun, the intrepid Bert Crull became filled with courage and confidence.

"He won't expect us back," he whispered. "Sneak through softly. Stay behind me. Do everything I tell you.

"We'll get him this time. The old man would have got him, but he picked up the wrong gun."

They saw a light at the end of the tunnel. The Shadow had evidently found the switch which illuminated the cavern.

"This makes it better," whispered Crull.As the three men crept to the opening of the cavern, Birdie Crull peered cautiously around the edge.

There was no one in view.

One factor worried him. That was the entrance at the other side. Circling the edge of the cavern, the gunman crouched beside the opposite opening.

"I'm watching here," he said, in a whisper that was audible throughout the low room. "Come on in. Look in the pit."

Blair Windsor inspected the open grating.

"They're gone," he said.

"That guy got them out," snarled Crull. "That means just one thing, boys. He's dragged them-whether they're dead or alive-and they've taken the tunnel to the large house.

"They can't get through there. The old man is waiting for them. We'll sneak in on them."

There was a slight sound from the corner of the cavern. Birdie Crull had gone by the spot a moment before. There had been no one in sight.

All three turned toward the spot from which the sound had come. They were staring directly at the torture casket in which Harry Vincent had once been.

Now a black form emerged from the opening in the top. The astounded counterfeiters were staring into the muzzles of two revolvers-held by The Shadow!

They had no opportunity to raise their weapons. Birdie Crull dropped his gun, and it slipped into the sloping opening that led to Windsor's house. The other two men let their rifles fall.

A TAUNTING, uncanny laugh came from the figure in black. Its mirthless tones quivered from the walls of the eerie cavern. It seemed to be the laugh of doom.

"So three of you came back," mocked the weird, whispered voice of The Shadow. "I expected you.

Now you are here-to answer for your crimes.

"Your crime is murder, Birdie Crull. Double murder. You killed Frank Jarnow. You killed Detective Harvey Griffith. I can prove your crimes.

"As for you, Blair Windsor, your position is obvious. You have lived here, supplied with money by Isaac Coffran, to mask this counterfeiting scheme.

"But the old man expected more of you. Your brother, Henry Windsor, has half a million dollars-which is willed to you.

"You agreed to give half of that sum to Isaac Coffran. It was to be obtained through the murder of Henry Windsor."

"He made me sign the paper," blurted Blair. "I didn't want to agree to Henry's death-but there was no way out!"

"Ah!" The Shadow seemed to chuckle. "So you signed something. I am glad to learn that fact. It gives me information. I know just how Frank Jarnow figured.

"He found the paper, and took it from Isaac Coffran's room. Birdie Crull killed Jarnow to obtain it."A look of dismay appeared upon Birdie Crull's face. The Shadow laughed, as his theory was confirmed.

"But you didn't get it, did you?" questioned The Shadow, addressing Birdie Crull. "No. Wait. You took most of it, but left part.

"Harrison would have suspected an entire doc.u.ment; but not a fragment. Griffith suspected the fragment.

That's why you killed Griffith."

The amazing revelations of the mysterious figure in black disconcerted Birdie Crull. Only the head and shoulders of The Shadow were visible; they presented a weird figure, atop the torture casket.

The cavern became silent, as The Shadow ceased speaking. He seemed to be in deep thought.

Then he began to emerge, straight upward, from the strange box in which he had crouched and hidden.

It was a difficult feat; but The Shadow accomplished it, with amazing agility. He loomed high above the box; then he slid downward to the ground.

At that instant, Birdie Crull made a dash for safety. He dived into the opening that led to Blair Windsor's house, seizing his automatic in his forward plunge.

The Shadow fired after his departing figure. Strangely, the shot went wide. It was as though The Shadow had deliberately chosen to let the man escape. The single report of his automatic sounded like a signal.

The man in the black cloak calmly pocketed his revolvers. They slipped from sight beneath the sable folds. Evidently he feared no attack from either Blair Windsor or Vernon.

The two men stood stock-still, their hands above their heads. The departure of Birdie Crull had left them too frightened to move.

Ignoring them, The Shadow went to the table. He produced a paper and pen, and began to write. In the midst of his words, pistol shots echoed through the tunnel in which Birdie Crull had disappeared. The Shadow uttered his mocking laugh.

Across the top of the written page, he inscribed these words: "The Confession of Bertram (Birdie) Crull."

TWO men came from the opening, supporting the body of a third. They were Harry Vincent and Vic Marquette, carrying the helpless form of Birdie Crull. The killer was coughing. His clothes were stained with blood.

"I tried to get him easy," explained Marquette, ruefully. "We were laying for him, just as we were ordered to do. But somehow, I always kill them when I have to shoot."

"Bring him here."

The Shadow's order was obeyed. The man in the black cloak rose and stepped aside, while Birdie Crull was placed in the chair. The Shadow thrust the pen in the gangster's weakening hand.

"Sign!"

The ominous sound of that commanding whisper hissed through the low cavern like a voice from the dim beyond. Birdie Crull, his physical being on the border of death, could not resist. With a last spontaneous effort, he placed his signature to the truthful confession, which told that he had murdered Frank Jarnow and Harvey Griffith.The weakened murderer collapsed as he completed the last stroke of the pen. Before Marquette could catch him, he toppled from the chair, and lay dead upon the floor of the cavern.

"Watch the prisoners."

The voice of The Shadow was a sibilant tone, that aroused both Vincent and Marquette. Turning, they left the body of the dead crook, and covered Windsor and Vernon.

No one else was in the room. Like a phantom of the Stygian darkness, The Shadow had disappeared.

He was gone-and none had seen him vanish.

But he left behind him the sound of a gibing laugh; a long, whispered laugh; a laugh of triumph that resounded throughout the cavern, as though it came from its walls.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII. THE OUTCOME.

WHEN Vic Marquette and Harry Vincent marched their prisoners through the tunnel to the farmhouse, they discovered which way The Shadow had gone. For Jerry, the man who was the shipper of the counterfeiting gang, lay trussed upon the floor of the farmhouse cellar.

The Shadow had surprised him, and had easily overcome him. Harry cut the ropes that bound Jerry's feet, and he was lined up with Windsor and Vernon.

Vic Marquette prepared to take the counterfeiters away in his car. He was to return later for the body of Birdie Crull. The gunman's confession was in Marquette's pocket.

After a short consultation, Harry Vincent arranged to drop out of the picture. Credit for the capture belonged to Marquette. All the necessary evidence was available. Other secret-service men would soon arrive to go over the ground.

Harry Vincent returned to Blair Windsor's house, sure that The Shadow had been there before him.

There was no danger from Isaac Coffran. If the old man had remained on guard, he would have fallen into the clutches of The Shadow.

But Isaac Coffran had not waited. He had escaped in Blair Windsor's automobile. He alone, of the entire gang, managed to elude the clutches of the secret service.

Harry Vincent drove back to New York that night. It was a long, wearisome drive, through torrents of pouring rain. Yet the young man kept on.

His nerves were tingling from the excitement of the adventures which he had undergone; and the trip seemed to steady him. He arrived at the Metrolite Hotel, and slept for twenty-four hours.

There was considerable surprise at the New Jersey airport when Lamont Cranston's plane made a perfect landing there, despite the poor visibility.

There was more surprise at the millionaire's home, when Lamont Cranston announced that he was leaving for Europe, and would not return for a month, at least.

Burbank left, for his work was finished.

NEWSPAPERS throughout the nation devoted columns to the story of the captured counterfeiters. In Philadelphia, however, the daily journals carried other accounts that were of high local interest. Two baffling crimes had reached an automatic solution, following the news from Ma.s.sachusetts.The murders of Harvey Griffith and Frank Jarnow were definitely linked. Birdie Crull's complete confession left no room for doubt. Henry Windsor was released, a free man, dumfounded at the turn of events which had saved him from trial.

Isaac Coffran was now a hunted man. No longer would he be free to plot his fiendish schemes. His latest crimes had been revealed. He had departed for some unknown place.

Sooner or later, it was believed, he would be found. He was wanted for counterfeiting, and for complicity in the murders of Frank Jarnow and Harvey Griffith.