Double Z

CHAPTER XVII. THE THIRD SNARE

“KEEP watching,” said Loy Rook.

Sneaks Rubin, his pasty face gleaming, stared at the little taboret which the old Chinaman indicated. The carved piece of furniture was open, like a box. Within glowed tiny lights.

Loy Rook’s long-nailed forefinger ran along a row in which a single bulb was extinguished — the one at the end. He pointed to the last lighted bulb.

“He is here,” declared Loy Rook.

“In the doorway?”

“Yes. Here” — Loy Rook pointed to the first light in the row — “he was at the door on the street. Here, at the second floor. Here, at the entrance. The next light will show. When it comes on, the man will be in the trap.”

“He’s been waiting a long while,” was Sneaks Rubin’s comment.

“They always wait,” declared Loy Rook solemnly. “Perhaps he is looking at my joss.”

“You mean that brass statue?”

“It is made of bronze,” corrected Loy Rook. “It is very valuable. The solid metal in it weighs nearly two hundred pounds.”

An exclamation came from Sneaks. The final light had turned on! Loy Rook smiled benignly.

“He is in the trap,” he declared. “Watch!”

He pointed to three larger bulbs, each marked by a Chinese character. They were figures, symbolizing the numbers one, two, and three. Two were lighted. The third came on while Loy Rook spoke.

“The trap has closed,” asserted the bespectacled Mongolian.

“You are sure he’s in there?” questioned Sneaks.

In reply, Loy Rook pointed significantly to the last light in the lower row.

“It works from the floor of the trap,” he explained. “Once a person has stepped upon it, the light goes on. Should that person step away, it would go out. It worked for the first trap; then I put out the light and arranged it for the second. Now, it is set for the third.”

“How about the other lights?” questioned Sneaks. “I mean the ones that tell when he’s down below, coming up the stairs. They’re still on.”

“They are arranged to stay on,” replied Loy Rook. “They show when a man comes up. They were working when you came. You remember that I put them out after you arrived?”

Sneaks nodded.

“But look here, Loy Rook,” he said. “Suppose a man should start back again—”

“They do not go back,” replied Loy Rook contentedly. “You have seen that, Sneaks. But I shall show you.”

He pressed a switch. All the lights in the row went out — save the last.

“You see? He is in the trap. Should any one else come in, the lights would turn on, one by one. Should any one go down the stairs instead of up, the lights would turn on the other way — backward.”

He pressed another switch.

“Now,” he announced, “the door is closed below. The bookcases are closed. No one else can enter. The three traps are filled. Each has taken its one man.”

“You’re smart, Loy Rook,” declared Sneaks. “I didn’t figure there’d be three of them. I didn’t know—”

“Loy Rook is very wise,” returned the old Mongolian. “He does not watch with closed eyes. He has known that his house contained an enemy. A young man — so good a secretary — would not work here at a cheap price. So the trap was made ready for him. Tonight, he has fallen!”

Sneaks glanced toward the door at the end of the room. Behind that barrier were the three snares with their helpless victims. Two men and their would-be rescuer had fallen into the toils!

“Let’s haul them out now,” suggested Sneaks. “They’re groggy, aren’t they?”

“Two are asleep,” declared Loy Rook. “The one who came last is not asleep.”

“What!” exclaimed Sneaks. “That’s The Shadow, Loy Rook! The man we want to get! Not asleep—”

“He is dead!” was Loy Rook’s slow reply.

IT was clear to Sneaks now. Loy Rook’s instructions had come from some source unknown to Sneaks.

The crafty little gangster had been merely the decoy to lead the victims to their snares.

The first two rooms were arranged so that each prisoner would be overcome by some sleep-producing gas. But no chances were being taken with the final victim. The lethal gas pervading the last room had been planned to complete his doom.

Sneaks grinned in ugly fashion. He admired Loy Rook’s methods. The wise old Chinaman relied upon automatic mechanism, overpowering or murdering his enemies as he might prefer.

“The Shadow is dead!” mumbled Sneaks. “The Shadow is dead!”

It seemed too good to be true. The scourge of the underworld enmeshed at last! And Sneaks was eager to see the body of the victim. Like every hardened crook, he feared and hated the very name of The Shadow.

For years, now, gangsters had been seeking to kill the mysterious man who had created havoc in the bad lands. Now The Shadow’s time had come — and Sneaks Rubin had played his part in the affair!

Sneaks feared The Shadow any way but dead, and with reason. He had heard of criminals who had captured The Shadow, but who had failed to kill him. They had seen their quarry melt away, and they had not lived to give the details. Tonight, however, it was different. Loy Rook’s brain had outwitted the master mind!

“Let’s see him,” suggested Sneaks. “Let’s look at The Shadow—”

“In time,” smiled Loy Rook. “Let each have his turn. The living first; then the dead.”

He walked to the door at the opposite end of the room, and pressed a button that was on the wall — the top one of four.

Slowly, the door moved upward, like a heavy theater curtain. It disappeared in the ceiling, its draperies vanishing with it. The body of Cliff Marsland lay huddled on the floor. With a cry of glee, Sneaks leaped forward and looked at the man’s face.

“This is the guy I knocked cold at Bodine’s!” he said gleefully. “The guy that double-crossed Clipper—”

“Bind him,” ordered Loy Rook, handing the gangster a length of cord.

Sneaks followed orders. Then Loy Rook assisted the gangster in carrying Cliff to the side of the large room. There was a low, narrow platform at that spot. Cliff’s form was deposited on one side, leaving room for another body.

Loy Rook pressed the second button. The next door went up. Harry Vincent lay in view. It was Loy Rook who uttered the words of recognition.

“This man was my secretary,” he said. “I have been watching him. He was not wise enough for Loy Rook.”

Harry was bound and deposited beside Cliff Marsland. Sneaks waited expectantly for Loy Rook to press the third button; but the Chinaman desisted.

“Wait,” he said. “Wait until they can see. Let them look when we find their dead master.”

LOY ROOK had scarcely ended his sentence before Cliff opened his eyes and stared about him. He tried to speak, but his jaws were helpless. He turned his head wearily and saw the form of Harry Vincent beside him. A minute later, Harry also regained consciousness. Loy Rook spoke, but neither of the bound men answered.

“They can understand,” explained the Chinaman to Sneaks. “But they cannot talk. It is the effect of the gas.”

The owl-faced Mongolian strode over to the wall. Sneaks saw Cliff and Harry turn their heads to watch him. The next door was plainly within their range of vision. Loy Rook placed his hand upon the third button. He spoke to the captured men.

“Now,” he said, “you will see the man you call The Shadow!”

He pressed the button. The door moved upward. Sneaks Rubin was staring at the barrier.

Then a cry of rage came from him. Loy Rook leaned forward to see. Like Sneaks, he realized how they had been tricked.

A seated form rested beyond the lifted barrier — but it was not the shape of a human being, either alive or dead. Leering with its shining eyes of metal, the figure of Loy Rook’s bronze joss seemed to mock the men who stared. The Shadow had eluded the trap of Loy Rook!

Suspecting its presence, he had placed the image near the barrier in front of him. Its weight had caused the dropping door to fall. The Shadow had remained behind the farther barrier. Loy Rook’s lethal gas had been wasted on a thing of metal!