The Shadow - The Shadow's Justice Part 8

Forgetting that Harry had given the warning, he thought that he had been led into a trap. He took Harry's present act as an indication of treachery. With an angry cry, he hurled himself upon the man who had befriended him.

AS the two young men struggled, the fellow with the blackjack came to his feet. It was Scully, Stacks Lodi's a.s.sistant.

There was no need for silence now. With snarling lips, Scully sounded the cry for a general attack.

Three men, armed with gleaming revolvers, pounced forth from Room 215. Scully, backed against the wall, clutched his blackjack and gave the order for murder.

"Get both of them!" was his snarl. "One is the guy we want. b.u.mp the other one, too!"

These words came just as Harry Vincent managed to wrest himself free from Carter Boswick's grasp. In so doing, Harry had sent Carter spinning across the hall; Harry, in turn, was trying to catch himself against the wall. Both young men found themselves staring into the muzzles of revolvers.

Carter, in his staggering course, had stopped but two feet from where Scully stood. The gangster's hand came up with the blackjack. The beginning of its downward swing was the final signal for cold murder.

Fingers waited on triggers, ready to fire as that blow fell. Scully's action had brought a momentary lull, each villain ready to give their leader the opportunity for the first stroke.

As Scully's wrist poised viciously above his head, a shot sounded from the window at the end of the hall.

A bullet skimmed Scully's unkempt hair, and struck the gangster's wrist.

A fiendish cry of rage came from Scully's bloated lips. The blackjack, as though plucked away by a hand from nowhere, snapped out of Scully's fingers, and made a long parabola toward the ceiling. The gangster collapsed, clutching his right wrist with his left hand.

Harry Vincent knew the source of that timely shot. The Shadow must have scaled the pillars at the front of the hotel. Lying on the porch, he had watched Harry's effort to lead Carter Boswick to safety.

Three armed gangsters! What did they matter now? The Shadow was there to pick them off. The cue was to drop out of danger, to give the hidden avenger a clear sweep.

A m.u.f.fled shot sounded from the lobby below-a sign that Stacks Lodi had taken action there. But Harry Vincent scarcely heard it. He was dropping to the floor, away from the threatening guns, as he cried out to Carter Boswick to follow his example.

Harry's warning was too late. Carter had already sprung to action. He was leaping forward to mill withthe armed gangsters.

Harry groaned as he reached in his pocket for his own gun. How could The Shadow save Carter Boswick now?

Carter was wrestling with one of the gunmen, and had the fellow's wrist in an iron clutch. The other gangsters swung to shoot. The grappling men were between them and the window, a protection against The Shadow's fire.

The wrestling pair swerved. Carter Boswick's stooping back caught the eye of the nearer gangster. The man stabbed the muzzle of his gun toward Carter's back, and snarled in elation. But the very situation that gave the would-be killer his opportunity to slay was also the break for which The Shadow had been watching.

A spurt of flame accompanied the roar that came from the window. The gangster sprawled forward, beside the struggling men, the triumphant leer fading from his writhing lips. The other free gunman shouted in rage. Raising his revolver, he blazed uselessly at the open window. There was no response. The Shadow, lying low, had stayed his fire.

With gun in hand, Harry Vincent leaped to his feet and attacked the firing man from behind. He struck a hard blow at the villain's head, but the man turned just in time to ward it off. He hurled Harry to the floor, and jabbed his revolver straight at Harry's forehead.

Harry saw the approaching muzzle. He could see the evil, merciless face behind it. Yellowed teeth were displayed in a loathsome grin.

Then a shot boomed, seemingly from far away. The revolver flopped from the gangster's fingers. The man's eyes bulged; his lips closed; his body rolled sidewise to the floor.

As Harry's gaze turned, he saw the termination of the fight between Carter Boswick and the one remaining gunman. All through the struggle, Carter had held the advantage until now. But a turn in the fray had enabled the gangster to wrest away. At this instant, his gun hand was free, aiming to kill.

Harry's own revolver was in his hand. He swung it upward to prevent the kill. It was a belated gesture.

Harry could never have beaten the gangster to the shot. But The Shadow's unfailing hand still remained in readiness.

The final bullet sped from the window. The gangster received it in the heart. When Harry fired, his shots reached the falling body of a dead man. The Shadow, hidden marksman of the night, had accounted for all the opposition.

HARRY and Carter reached their feet. There was no hesitation now. Carter followed Harry's lead. They hurried down the hall, carrying the suitcases with them. Scully, huddled and moaning on the floor, made no effort to stop them. His shattered wrist had ended his partic.i.p.ation in the battle.

No explanations were necessary as Harry guided Carter through Room 222 and threw a suitcase out the window. Within twenty seconds, Carter's two bags and Harry's single one were gone; Carter dropped out when he heard the order, and Harry followed.

Three minutes later, the two young men were rolling out of Junction City in Harry's coupe. Carter Boswick, tense and half bewildered, was staring at his companion. He realized now the importance of Harry's warning, and knew that he had found a man on whom he could rely.

"Say, old fellow"-Carter's voice was filled with grat.i.tude-"you pulled me out of it tonight. I don'tknow where we're going, but-"

"We're going to stick together," was Harry's response.

"Right!" agreed Carter, with emphasis. "Say, old man, something tells me that this may just be the beginning. I've got a lot on my mind. I've kept it from every one, because I didn't know whom I could trust. But you're one hundred per cent. You're game enough to chance it with me."

Harry's right hand moved from the steering wheel. Carter caught it in a firm grasp. The two men held a prolonged clasp that betokened mutual confidence. No further words were necessary.

Harry Vincent, in the service of The Shadow, had formed an alliance with Carter Boswick, the man who sought the wealth that was his heritage. From now on, the quest would be theirs together!

CHAPTER XIII. THE MINING CABIN.

THE next afternoon found Harry Vincent and Carter Boswick rolling along a narrow, rutted road in Harry's coupe. While Harry carefully guided the car, Carter studied a large map which was unfolded before him.

They were in a wild, unpopulated region. It was doubtful if a car could have been along this almost forgotten road since the beginning of the month. The road was curving upward toward the summit of a small hill. As they neared a clearing, Carter gave the signal to stop.

"This is as close as we can get," he declared. "Why not shove the car off in the clearing, and cut through the trees to that place up there?"

He pointed to a crag-like spot on the side of the hill. It was plain that the slight eminence would serve as an excellent lookout for the terrain below. Without a word, Harry turned the car from the road and stopped it at the fringe of the woods.

It was only a short tramp to the crag. Carter's supposition proved correct. Seated on the rock, he and Harry could observe a considerable extent of wooded ground. The country here was hilly; over beyond a sloping valley, they saw another rise of ground that was rather low, but, nevertheless, mountainous in appearance.

"Down in there"-Carter was pointing to the valley-"is the probable location. I am sure that I have the lat.i.tude and longitude correct, but we may have to do considerable searching to find the exact place meant."

Harry nodded. Carter had explained the entire situation to him. In return, Harry had frankly told Carter that he was the agent of an unknown person who had gained knowledge of certain plans to rob Carter of his heritage.

"I feel positive," continued Carter, "that there must be some distinctive object to guide us-say a big tree-a small lake-a habitation."

"Look over there!" Harry pointed as he spoke. "That is a cabin of some sort, isn't it?"

Carter followed the direction of Harry's gaze. He, too, saw the object. The edge of a roof was barely visible in a large clearing that had been cut away at the base of the opposite hill. Carter turned to Harry with a triumphant smile.

"That's where we're going!" he stated. "Let's go back and get the supplies out of the coupe. Then we caninvestigate and stay, if it looks good."

AN hour later, the young men arrived at the clearing. They were carrying packs and boxes-items of provision and equipment that they had purchased in a small town that morning.

As they came out of the trees, they spied a fair-sized cabin that appeared to be in good condition, although it bore signs of desertion.

Finding the door unlocked, Harry and Carter entered. The cabin consisted of a single floor. In the center was a large room with a fireplace. There were three small bedrooms off at one side, and a dining room and kitchen at the other. The place was spa.r.s.ely furnished, even to cots with springs.

In the kitchen, they discovered a stove and a complete array of pots and pans. A calendar was hanging on the wall. Harry pointed it out to Carter. The calendar was five years old.

"Do you think the place can have been deserted that long?" questioned Carter, in a tone of surprise.

"Very probably," said Harry. "The calendar looks like good evidence."

"But the furniture-the utensils?"

"No one touches anything in this country. If any people have been in here, they have taken it for granted that the owners intend to return."

The men went out the back door of the cabin. Across the clearing, they saw a square-shaped opening in the ground-something like the mouth of a large well. Investigating, they discovered a wooden ladder leading down into a deep pit, with stone interior that glimmered in spots.

"A vertical mining shaft," remarked Harry.

"Looks like galena," nodded Carter, pointing to one of the glittering patches.

"I think I've got it," declared Harry. "This is considerable of a mining region around here. The fellows that had this cabin sunk their shaft in hopes of a real strike."

"And then?"

"They probably got wind of a better location, where others were hitting it good. When a rush starts, the first people stand the best chance. Maybe they started out for the Nipigon region, in Canada. Anyway, they took along all that they could carry and never came back."

"It sounds logical."

"It's quite a usual occurrence," Harry stated. "This place has become absolutely useless. The custom of the forest is to use what comes your way, provided you do not injure it. This cabin is ours for the time being."

"There is no doubt in my mind," said Carter slowly, "concerning the importance of this spot. It appears to be the one place that could have been meant in my father's directions. Our search begins here."

"Right here," affirmed Harry, pointing to the shaft. "Who's going down, Carter? You or I?"

"I'll take the job," declared Carter promptly.

WHILE his companion made the descent into the shaft, Harry sat on the edge of the square wooden walland kept careful watch. All seemed serene in this lonely clearing, but Harry could not avoid the suspicion of possible danger lurking near by.

Harry, gazing downward at intervals, could see the occasional flash of Carter Boswick's electric torch.

Fifteen minutes went by; a head and shoulders came over the side, and Carter rejoined Harry.

"Absolute blank," was Carter's comment. "I searched the shaft all the way down. About thirty feet, as I calculated it. Solid rock, every inch. Ends in a ragged bottom. Let's go back to the cabin."

When they reached the one-story building, Harry proposed a search within. The two men spent an hour going over the floor and walls. Here, as before, they could discover nothing. Harry entered the kitchen and cooked up some coffee. Seated at the old table, the two held council as they drank.

"Here is the whole situation," a.s.serted Carter quietly. "My father was a most unusual man. He apparently had a contempt for wealth, despite the fact that the acc.u.mulation of it was his chief endeavor. He was also a stickler for perseverance.

"Somewhere in this locality, he has placed a sum that should be close to ten million dollars. Naturally, he must have hidden it well -so effectively that chance visitors could find no clew to its location. But to a man in my position-one who knows the wealth is near -one who is willing to search every foot of the ground-the quest should certainly bring success."

"Good reliance on your perseverance," commented Harry.

"Exactly," responded Carter.

"How about your cousin?" questioned Harry. "You told me that the task would have gone to him had he been the heir. Could your father have relied upon his perseverance?"

"With ten million dollars involved?" came back Carter. "I should think any one would persevere!"

"But if you fail-what of the money then?"

Carter Boswick shrugged his shoulders.

"It will lay where it is," he decided. "That's all. But I intend to find it."

Harry strolled to the window and stared out toward the woods. He studied the terrain of forest, with sloping hill beyond. He felt a sudden consciousness that eyes were watching from amid the trees. He had the same sensation when be crossed the kitchen and gazed from a second window. He said nothing of his suspicion to Carter. Instead, he expressed his willingness to begin the search.

"It's late now," declared Harry. "The time to get started is early in the morning. But be sure of this, Carter. We must stay together at all times. The episode back in the Junction House may be just the beginning."

"We'd better take s.h.i.+fts watching at night," observed Carter. "If other people are engaged in the hunt, they're liable to attack us then."

"Exactly," said Harry. "Well, we're each packing a pair of automatics. We can use them when we need them."

"How about"-Carter paused-"how about-your friend-whoever he is?"

"We're not to count on him," a.s.serted Harry cryptically. "Our job is to work together. We were helpedout plenty back at the hotel. We're likely to receive help in the future. But there may be a lot of angles to this that we don't know. Therefore, we have to take the att.i.tude that we are on our own resources."

"You said something about gangsters," remarked Carter. "The fight at the Junction House bore that out.

But what puzzles me is how they got into this at the start."

"I have no idea."

"YOU know," pondered Carter, "I made one mistake. I should have checked up on Drew Westling before I left New York. Farland Tracy warned me that my father was very suspicious; that he feared some one was trying to learn where the money was hidden. Prowlers entered the old mansion while father was away.

"Then there's that matter of the stolen message. When Tracy left the house, I may have shown, by my expression, that I had something on my mind. I covered up until after Tracy had gone. But as soon as Headley had closed the door, I was eager to start.

"Drew was in the dining room. He saw the direction that I took. I wanted him to think that I was going upstairs; but I went into the library instead."

"Post mortem won't help," decided Harry abruptly. "All we know is that some one is on your trail. There was a mob in back of it last night, but the crowd has thinned out considerably.

"One fellow-he's the bird who took Room 215-was on the train coming west from New York. He goes under the name of Antonio Lodi. He's still at large. But who he's working for or with, is something that we may not know for a while."

"You're right," laughed Carter. "The best thing we can do is stick to our knitting. Maybe they'll leave us alone until after we've found the hiding place. Then-"

Harry nodded as he caught the inference. That might well be the enemy's plan, now that the goal had been neared.

Whatever might transpire, Harry Vincent was sure that a t.i.tanic struggle lay ahead. It would take more than himself and Carter Boswick to succeed. Harry realized fully that The Shadow's aid could be the only salvation.

Still by the window, Harry felt a prolonged sensation of uneasiness. Dusk was falling, and it added to the illusion of spying eyes watching from the woods. In an effort to curb his nervousness, Harry suggested dinner.