Atoms of Death

CHAPTER VII THE DECISION

“IT was The Shadow, right enough.”

Matt Theblaw gave this verdict as he faced Professor Baldridge Jark. The two were in the room where they had held previous conference. As before, Digger Wight was witness to the confab. Digger had remained with Jark while Matt had been out directing combat.

“He blew in big as life,” asserted Matt. “Pulled a smart stunt on us, too. Dodging back from the stairs, so the gang would follow. With a bunch of heels laying back to plug our mob on the stairs.”

“We heard plenty of rods workin’,” put in Digger. “Who did he get?”

“Between him and his outfit,” calculated Matt, “Charley and Fritz took the bump. Luke and Brodie got plugged; but not very bad. They’ll hold out until we get them to the medico.”

“Yeah?” quizzed Digger. “Well, where’s the sawbones?”

“You’re asking me that?” scoffed Matt. “What about Doc Baird? We’ve got him tucked away, haven’t we? On your account, prof” — Matt smiled cunningly as he turned to Jark — “but I guess you won’t squawk if we make Baird do extra duty.”

“Not at all,” commented Jark, dryly. “Suit yourself, Theblaw. It is all for the common cause. This means, of course, that you recommend a prompt departure from this house.”

“Yes,” nodded Theblaw. “Suppose we work it this way. You ride with Digger, in the sedan. Parsons can sit in back, looking out for Luke and Brodie. Digger knows the way to that flossy hideout of ours. Meanwhile, I’ll take the rest of the mob in the other cars. We’ll dump Charley and Fritz out of one; we’ll carry this bird Cranston in the other.”

“What about the junk around here?” demanded Digger.

“You and the prof can pack it,” suggested Matt. “Leave the furniture; it’s no account. The equipment is all you’ll want to take. How about it, prof?”

“Quite satisfactory,” assured Jark. “With this exception, Theblaw. I would recommend that Wight dismantle the equipment before you start. Unless the wounded men are in critical condition, it would be advisable for me to talk with this man Cranston.”

“That’s right,” decided Matt. “Sure thing, prof; the gorillas can wait. I want to listen in and hear how Cranston takes the spiel you hand him. Make it snappy, prof. Don’t spill too much about the shots he heard.”

“I doubt that he heard them at all,” assured Jark, with a smile. “The noise of the firing was scarcely audible in this room. The closed door would have prevented Cranston and his watchers from having heard it.”

With that, the old man went to the door of the next room. Matt gave a nod to Digger, who sidled out into the hall. Then Matt moved behind the door as the professor opened it.

Jark, when he entered the adjoining room, was careful to leave the barrier ajar. Peering through the crack, Matt could view both the professor and the prisoner.

THE gorillas who guarded The Shadow looked restless, as though they had sensed that a fray was on. But The Shadow, calm in the guise of Lamont Cranston, gave no indication that he had noticed anything unusual. He was seated languidly in the easy-chair, almost half asleep.

Matt Theblaw attributed that to weariness, following the powerful electric shock that the prisoner had received. The crook watched Professor Jark approach the easy-chair; he saw a listless gaze on the features of Lamont Cranston. Apparently the prisoner was not worrying about his present situation.

“Well, Mr. Cranston” — there was no sarcasm in Jark’s present mention of the name — “I have attended to my other duties. Let us resume our discussion where it ended.

“It is apparent that you came here under a misapprehension. You chanced to meet my secretary, Bruce Duncan. He passed you a paper that he was anxious to be rid of and did not have the opportunity to destroy.”

“Interesting,” observed The Shadow, becoming less languid. “I should like to know more about this man Duncan.”

“He was my secretary,” stated Jark. “In that capacity, he had access to plans that concerned my new inventions. Duncan, as I learned by chance, saw opportunity to sell his knowledge to rogues who wanted to capitalize upon my efforts.

“Unfortunately” — the old professor smiled blandly, and ran his clawlike fingers through his moppy hair — “I suspected Duncan of complicity and moved all my files and apparatus from this residence. Duncan had already accepted money from his bribers. That put him in a most embarrassing position.

“He left here last night. Undoubtedly he formed contact with the rogues who had paid him. He must have arranged to meet them; to give them the floor plan that would enable them to come here for themselves. But he was dealing with dangerous persons. The meeting proved to be a trap. Duncan barely escaped with his life, according to your testimony.”

“And handed me the paper,” chuckled The Shadow. “Of course — that was the best step he could make. Had he thrown it away—”

“The others might have found it,” interposed Jark. “Perhaps, in justice to Duncan, we may believe that he saw my life in menace also. Duncan was crooked, but not murderous. But whatever his motive, he felt — after that attempt on his life — that he must preserve the information.”

“Possibly,” mused The Shadow, “Duncan thought that I was the impostor who calls himself The Shadow.”

“Possibly,” agreed the professor. “That, however, does not concern us. Let us forget Duncan, Mr. Cranston. Instead, picture my own position. I have always feared intruders here. Thieves — robbers — adventurers coming to steal my inventions. That is why I installed electric devices at every door.

“Duncan knew of the ones at front and back; but he did not know that I had also equipped the side door. Naturally, I was on guard after Duncan’s surprise departure. When you arrived tonight, you received the shock that I had prepared for my enemies.

“Having convinced me of your innocence, Mr. Cranston, you are entitled to my profound apology. I can assure you that your unpleasant experience will leave no ill after effects. But before you depart, I feel that we should come to a mutual understanding.”

The professor paused emphatically. He eyed the prisoner steadily. A fixed smile showed on The Shadow’s thin lips.

“I SUPPOSE, professor,” remarked The Shadow, calmly, “that you refer to the rather unusual circumstances which marked my visit here. I presume that you would prefer that they remain unmentioned.”

Professor Jark nodded soberly.

“Quite a logical request,” assured The Shadow. “I can readily appreciate your situation, professor. The very fact that you are still actively engaged in inventive effort is something which you do not care to have the public know.”

“Exactly! What is more, should the authorities begin prying into my affairs, I should be forced to go into lengthy, troublesome details. My work would be disturbed—”

“This matter, professor,” interposed The Shadow, rising, “does not concern the police whatever. I understand the point of your worriment. You require assurance that I shall not mention my experience to my friend, Acting Commissioner Barth.

“In fact” — the fixed smile was steady on The Shadow’s lips — “I feel that we both have mutual cause for indignation. Not only against your crooked secretary, but against the masquerader who calls himself The Shadow. If you, professor, could use one of your electrical devices to give that chap a lesson, I should be most gratified.

“Anything to rid me of his troublesome intrusion. He has annoyed me quite as much as Duncan has annoyed you. Well, professor” — The Shadow glanced at the clock upon the mantel — “it is considerably past midnight. Too late for me to visit the Cobalt Club. I should like to return home and call the club from there, simply to inform them that I was otherwise engaged this evening.”

The Shadow extended his hand. The professor received it in clawlike grasp. With his free hand, the old man clapped his prisoner upon the shoulder. Then Jark nodded to the crook servants.

“My men will drive you to New Jersey,” informed Jark. “I have a small sedan that will be suitable for the journey. Perhaps, Mr. Cranston” — the professor’s smile was subtle — “they may encounter this impostor who calls himself The Shadow. Should they do so, they will be instructed to bring him to me.

“I should like to talk with him; to inquire what he knows concerning Duncan’s treachery. Should I have the opportunity to talk with him, I shall convince him that it will be unwise for him to trouble you further.”

Professor Jark walked across the room and opened the closed door on the right. He watched his tall, leisurely, prisoner stroll out with a guard on each side. One of the gorillas looked back to catch a nod from Jark. The Shadow did not observe the professor’s order of assurance.

AS soon as the trio had left, Jark hurried back to the door on the left. The barrier opened as he approached it. Matt Theblaw stepped into view to give a commending nod.

“Good work, prof,” commended the tall crook. “You fixed Cranston, all right. He won’t do any squawking. He showed he was worried when he admitted he was in the wrong coming here.”

“He understands nothing about our plans,” assured Jark. “I watched him closely, Theblaw, all the while that I was speaking to him.”

“I’m following over to Jersey” — Matt made a gesture toward the doorway and three rowdies entered — “so we can clinch the proposition. Go on down, Louie, and slip this note to Pete.”

He handed a folded paper to one of the gorillas, who hurried through the far door after the pair who had conducted The Shadow.

“Tipping them off,” explained Matt, “so’s they’ll hang on to Cranston until after we’ve snatched The Shadow. That’s my part of the job. In the meantime, when you and Digger leave here, put in a call to the Cobalt Club. Give the message that Mr. Cranston has gone home. Tell them to pass that news to Barth. He’ll call New Jersey before he makes a visit here. So we won’t have any trouble.

“But, after all, why worry? Nobody knows anything. Just so long as we don’t have a search on for a wealthy guy like Cranston, there’s nothing to worry about. We covered the snatch when we grabbed Doc Baird. So if Cranston does any talking it won’t put anybody wise. Especially” — Matt spoke with assurance — “after we’ve got The Shadow.”

The tall crook crossed the room, followed by the other two gunmen. At the same moment, Digger Wight entered from the door on the left. Turning about, Professor Jark saw the little crook. With a dry smile, the old inventor joined Digger to prepare for their mutual departure.

IN a space behind the old house; The Shadow was smoking a cigarette as he sat in a coupe. Behind him, in the rumble seat, was one of the thugs whom Jark had termed a “servant.” The other rowdy was at the wheel. A man came up in the darkness and passed a folded slip to the driver. It was Louie, contacting Pete.

The driver read the note by the dashlight. He tore up the paper and growled his understanding. Louie stepped away; Pete shoved the car in gear and drove off. The Shadow, half reclining, could see Pete’s eyes watching him in the mirror.

From behind came the roar of another motor. A glance in the mirror gave The Shadow a glimpse of a second car following the first. The thin smile remained fixed upon The Shadow’s lips.

It was still wise to continue his ruse. A horde of enemies was still concentrated upon him. He saw that it would be well to prolong the game, postponing action until his captors were totally off guard.