Cyro

CHAPTER XX STROKE AND COUNTERSTROKE

DINNER had ended at the Gaudrin mansion. Alicia’s party had been a great success. Danforth Gaudrin arose from his chair at the head of the table and sighed reluctantly.

“Captain Emory is waiting in the study,” he remarked. “We must talk with him, Marr — about the transfer of the Nautilus.”

“Very well,” responded Marr. “But the professor went in there, Danforth, just before those crew members left. Perhaps we should not disturb Babcock while he is arranging his coral specimens.”

“We shall not disturb him. Come, Marr. Captain Emory may be anxious to have us complete this matter.”

The two men left. Alicia suggested to the others that they go out to the veranda. They left the dining room by a front door that led to the living room. This was directly across the hall from the parlor that lay in front of the study.

Reaching the porch, Alicia and her brother Luke began to chat with their guests. Reginald Exeter had little to say. Lighting his pipe, the Australian stared off across the lawn while Raoul Brilliard and Tracy Lence kept up their conversation.

Brilliard was voluble in his French accent. Lence, playing the part of a quiet gentleman, displayed a surprising knowledge of art. He had rehearsed this with Brilliard in preparation for the visit here. All their conversation was a buildup to what was coming later.

“Luke,” remarked Lence, suddenly, “why don’t you drive out ahead to the Club Caprice? You can have my roadster. I can come later, in a taxi, and drive back with you. I’d like to chat a while more with Monsieur Brilliard.”

“All right,” agreed Luke. “But why don’t you leave him to Exeter? The way they were talking French at the table, you’d think they were old pals.”

“Eet ees not about ze art that I talk with Monsieur Exeter,” put in Brilliard. “Eet ees about Paree. Ah, moi! He has known ze Paree—”

Exeter took his pipe from his lips and shot a remark in fluent French. Brilliard replied; both men chuckled. Luke shrugged his shoulders and started into the house.

“I’ll drive out to the Club Caprice—”

Luke broke off as he encountered the butler whom the Gaudrins had hired for this occasion. The servant spoke quietly, and Luke nodded.

“All right,” he said, in a puzzled tone. “I’ll talk to him in the parlor.”

“Who is it, Percival?” inquired Alicia, as the butler stepped out to pick up some glasses. Luke had already gone on toward the parlor.

“A gentleman to see Mr. Luke,” responded Percival. “His name, miss, is Mr. Medbrook — Mr. Royal Medbrook.”

“The chap from the Club Caprice!” exclaimed Lence. “I remember, now. He said he might drop in here some time when he was coming by.”

BRILLIARD resumed a conversation with Exeter. While they parried in French, Alicia sat in troubled silence. She was worried about the advent of Royal Medbrook. Lence, puffing a cigar, sat meditative.

Lence was conscious of two facts: One, that Percival, the butler, had left. Like the other servants, Percival had been hired for the dinner. The help had eaten beforehand; Percival, since he did not reappear, must have joined them in their departure from the mansion.

The other fact was that neither Royal Medbrook nor Luke Gaudrin had gone out. The two must still be talking together in the parlor on the other side of the house. Brilliard, too, was conscious of these circumstances. He proved it when he turned suddenly to Lence.

“Ah, monsieur!” exclaimed the artist. “If you must go so soon, eet ees that I must show you ze sketches zat I have breeng with me.”

“Where are they?” inquired Lence.

“In ze room where we have dined, monsieur. Eef you will so kindly excuse, Mademoiselle Alicia, we shall go zere — Monsieur Lence and I—”

“Certainly, Monsieur Brilliard.”

Brilliard shot another chatty remark to Exeter. The Australian laughed and delivered a response in French. Exeter was still chuckling when Brilliard and Lence went into the living room.

“Interesting chap,” remarked Exeter to Alicia. “Quite witty. Well, we can forget the others for a while. Do you realize that we are alone together for the first time this evening?”

“I do,” replied Alicia, with a smile.

IN the parlor, Luke Gaudrin and Royal Medbrook were engaging in a buzzed conversation. Luke was promising the money that he owed, assuring Medbrook that the treasure had arrived.

“I saw the boxes come in,” he said. “Honest, Royal, nine of them. Supposed to be coral—”

“And maybe that’s all they were,” interposed the gambler. He stared suspiciously toward the hall. “How do you know different?”

“They were heavy, Royal. Too heavy for coral specimens. They’re being opened now, in the study.”

Medbrook glanced toward the door of the connecting passage, as Luke indicated it. A keen look appeared upon the gambler’s face.

In the dining room, Lence and Brilliard were drawing revolvers. They, too, were whispering when they stalked toward a door that led across the rear hall, directly to the entrance of the study.

“The servants have gone all right,” assured Lence, “and that means our squads will be ready. They’d have seen the servants go out through the back.”

“I know the servants have gone,” returned Brilliard. “I caught a flash signal from Larribez — off beyond the veranda. I arranged it with him this afternoon.”

“He’s coming through the back door?”

“Yes — to be ready when we need him.”

They were at the door of the study. Brilliard tried the knob cautiously. The door moved slightly. It was unlocked. Brilliard motioned to Lence. Then, with a swift move, the Frenchman opened the door. He and Lence swung into the study, with revolvers leveled. Brilliard calmly closed the door behind his back.

THEY had walked into an astonishing scene. Gathered about the nine boxes were four men. The boxes were open; they showed the heaps of golden coin that constituted the treasure of the old ship Don Carlos.

While Captain Emory and Professor Babcock looked on, Danforth Gaudrin was aiding Dunwood Marr in the selection of rare mintage. Upon the desk were stacks of gleaming doubloons and pieces-of-eight that they had picked as the finest specimens of Spanish money.

All swung upward at sight of the revolvers. Brilliard and Lence had caught their prey helpless. Coins dropped from the hands of Gaudrin and Marr. The glimmering disks clinked and rolled on the carpet as the trapped men raised their hands.

Motions from the revolvers caused Gaudrin and Marr to back to the wall beyond the desk. Captain Emory and Professor Babcock joined them, also with elevated hands. Strolling in by the treasure chests, Brilliard calmly reached in his pocket and produced a second revolver. Simultaneously, Lence lowered his weapon.

“Not a move!” snarled Brilliard, with no trace of his French accent. “I’m ready to shoot. Hold that pose you’ve taken, if you figure your lives are worthwhile. All right, Lence. Pass the word. This swag is going out.”

Lence turned toward the door that led to the hall. Brilliard kept a steady glare toward the men who stood along the wall. No one was observing the door to the enclosed porch. A key was grating slightly in the lock. Brilliard noted the sound. He called suddenly to Lence, who turned. Brilliard swung, too late.

The door shot open. Two men surged through. Their aiming revolvers caught both Lence and Brilliard.

Lence dropped his gun. Brilliard, turning to fire, heard it clank upon the floor. Quickly the Frenchman released his own weapons and thrust his hands above his head.

The rescuers had trapped the crooks without a shot. Stalwart and steady, they had saved the treasure. Joe Cardona and Lieutenant Wayson had arrived from the path laid for them by The Shadow!