Gypsy Vengeance

CHAPTER XI. THURSDAY NIGHT

IT was Thursday night. Cars were drawn up in front of Howard Laustin’s Long Island residence.

Shirley’s party — the one to which Lorenna had been invited — was in progress.

The set-up was similar to Murnick’s. One room had been arranged as Lorenna’s seance parlor.

Debutantes, excited in their conversation, were eager to test the gypsy woman’s power as a fortune teller.

In contrast to the gaiety of the party was the quiet of Howard Laustin’s study. There, within paneled walls of oak, the retired manufacturer was enjoying his cigar while he chatted with an unexpected visitor — Lamont Cranston.

“You picked a poor night to drop in to see me, Cranston,” the manufacturer was saying. “But, after all, your misfortune is my gain. When Shirley gives a party, the house belongs to her — all except this room.”

“It is quiet here,” remarked Cranston. “After all, Laustin, you are entitled to company also.”

“You’re the last person I ever expected to see,” returned Laustin. “The last time I saw you was on the boat coming home from Rio de Janeiro. That was the time when—”

“When you told me your house was always open,” interposed Cranston, with his quiet smile. “You suggested that I drop in to see you. So I have accepted the invitation.”

“After five years!” laughed Laustin. “You have a good memory, Cranston. Yes — five years — I made that trip to Rio two years before I retired. Do you remember Shirley, then — how anxious she was to know when we crossed the equator?” Laustin chuckled. “Now she’s grown up — parties five nights a week — and it seems like half of them are in this house.”

Laustin puffed at his cigar. Then slowly shaking his head added:

“How these young folk crave novelty! Tonight, it’s a gypsy fortune teller. They have a room rigged up like a tent. Did you see that smug-faced fellow prowling about the hall?”

Cranston nodded.

“His name is Jerwyn,” stated Laustin. “Manager for Madame Lorenna, the celebrated gypsy queen. Cross her palm with silver — or a ten-dollar note — and she’ll tell your past, present and future—”

There was a knock at the door. Laustin gave the order to enter. A servant appeared.

“Mr. Casper is here, sir,” he said. “Shall I usher him in here?”

“Yes,” ordered Laustin. “At once, Tobias.”

“Who is Mr. Casper?” inquired Cranston, in a casual tone, as the servant closed the door.

“An Englishman,” stated Laustin. “Rodney Casper, of London. He called me by telephone, this afternoon. He is connected with Stollwood, Larksbury, Limited — a concern with whom I had business relations when I manufactured carpeting.

“This chap Casper is a friend of Cecil Larksbury. Told me that Larksbury instructed him to call on me—”

Laustin paused. The door had opened. Tobias stood aside while Rodney Casper entered the study.

Howard Laustin arose to meet the guest. He introduced Casper to Cranston.

HALF an hour later, the three men were engaged in pleasant conversation. Their discourse was running the gamut of international topics. Howard Laustin, smiling pleasantly as he puffed a perfecto, was experiencing keen enjoyment.

The retired manufacturer had welcomed the visit of Lamont Cranston because he appreciated the keenness of the globetrotting millionaire. As a raconteur, Cranston was unequaled. His diversity of conversation was remarkable.

Now Laustin had met a man who ran Cranston a close second. Rodney Casper, also a traveler, was chatting on European subjects in a style which indicated remarkable knowledge as well as observation.

Laustin had dropped into the role of listener. Cranston’s easy, even voice; Casper’s smooth English accent; both were music to the manufacturer.

“Spain?” Casper chuckled as he responded to a question put by Cranston. “I know the country well. Madrid — Seville — Barcelona! Ah! There, sir, is the city par excellence.”

“Where the people devote the afternoon to the siesta,” observed Cranston. “and the evenings—”

“To enjoyment. Gardens with tinkling fountains; under soothing breezes; with bottles of ruby wine—”

“Until daybreak.”

“Yes. Only dawn can spoil those Barcelona nights.”

“I have never been to Spain.” asserted Laustin. “I understand that the country has fared badly since the revolution. The old nobility — the grandees — have disposed of their fortunes for a song. Only last week—”

He paused to reply to a knock at the door. Lamont Cranston’s keen gaze was directed on Rodney Casper. Hawklike eyes saw the expectant gleam that had appeared on Casper’s countenance.

SHIRLEY LAUSTIN appeared at the door. Both guests arose. Howard Laustin motioned to his daughter to close the door, while he arose to introduce Lamont Cranston and Rodney Casper.

“I see that you are wearing the topaz pendant, my dear,” remarked Laustin. “Look at this jewel, gentlemen.” He raised the pendant in his palm and held it toward the light. “I was just about to mention it when Shirley arrived. This jewel once belonged to the collection of a Spanish grandee. A friend of mine purchased it with the entire lot of gems. I, in turn, bought it from my friend.”

“I came to ask you about this pendant, father,” interposed Shirley. “The gypsy fortune teller said that it was Spanish. She told me it will bring good luck. It is an amulet. Whom did you buy it from?”

“That is supposedly a confidential matter,” responded Laustin. “However, I feel that neither of these gentlemen will mention the name of the former owner. I bought the topaz from Hampton Uhler.”

“The man who lives at Theswick?”

“Yes. He has a large estate on the west bank of the Hudson. He has invited me to come there to see his full collection. I told him that I might make further purchases.”

“Who was the original owner of the topaz?” asked Casper, in an easy tone. “I mean the Spanish grandee?”

“Uhler did not tell me,” replied Laustin. “That, apparently, is a secret. I fancy that the grandee — being forced to sacrifice his fortune — did not want the details known.”

Laustin had released the pendant. Shirley bowed to the guests and left the library. The three men resumed their seats. Cranston and Casper accepted cigars that Laustin offered them.

“Uhler is wealthy,” stated Laustin. “An odd man — almost a recluse — his home is like a castle. Some twenty-odd miles up the Hudson, it looms among trees on the high west bank.”

Both Cranston and Casper were facing Laustin as he spoke. But Cranston’s gaze went further. Those hawklike optics were noting a mirror on the far side of the room. It showed a corner door. The barrier was moving.

Peering into the study was a pallid face. The Shadow recognized that visage. Claude Jerwyn, knowing that Shirley Laustin had gone to quiz her father concerning the pendant, was spying in hopes of learning more.

“Quite interesting,” observed Casper. “A mansion high above the river. Hampton Uhler must have patterned his home after some of the feudal castles that are so prevalent in Europe.”

“That may have been his idea,” admitted Laustin. “Theswick is an isolated town. The railroad station is fully three miles from Uhler’s home. His estate occupies at least a hundred acres — all wooded land.”

“A rather lonely location.”

“Yes. Uhler has three or four servants — all men — who actually guard his place. So he is free from molestation, at least.”

“You purchased various gems from his collection?” questioned Casper.

“Only the pendant,” replied Laustin. “I saw some of the other jewels, however. There was a tiara, studded with diamonds and sapphires. Old Spanish rings — some of them could have dated from the time of Ferdinand and Isabella. The pendant belonged to the one collection. There is no question about its authenticity. In fact, it was the sight of the other items that convinced me that Uhler’s statements must be accurate.”

“I hope — Casper was smiling wanly — “that your friend Uhler has taken proper precautions to protect his wealth.”

“He has.” assured Laustin. “The house contains a strongroom. The jewels are kept in a large safe. The Spanish gems are not the only ones that Uhler owns. They constitute — well let us say — less than a third of his entire collection.

“Very few persons know of Uhler’s wealth. That is why I must make it understood that I am speaking in confidence. It would be impossible, of course, for an ordinary burglar to even reach his strongroom. The house is too well protected. But an armed band of raiders might succeed.”

“Due to the isolation?”

“Yes. When I was there, Uhler took me to the strongroom. He opened the safe. I was apprehensive all the while that we were there. I tried to keep from fancying what might happen if men were stationed in the trees outside the house. They could have taken the light in the strongroom — it is on the lower side of the house, toward the river — as a signal. Raiders — enough of them to overpower Uhler’s servants — could have caught us helpless, with the gems in open view.”

As Laustin ceased speaking, Lamont Cranston’s eyes again noted the mirror. Jerwyn’s face was fading.

The door closed softly.

“GEMS,” remarked Casper, “are fascinating to me. My own collection — though moderate — contains rarities from many lands. I have a ruby purchased from the renegade Rajah of Bancore; a collection of pearls once owned by a South American dictator—”

“Where did you obtain them?” interposed Laustin.

“During my travels,” declared Casper. “I represented other English firms before I joined with Stollwood, Larksbury, Limited. In fact, I may count myself a connoisseur, where precious stones are concerned.”

“Perhaps, remarked Laustin, “you would be interested in purchasing some of Uhler’s Spanish gems.”

“Are others for sale?” inquired Casper, in surprise.

“Yes,” asserted Laustin. “Uhler is willing to dispose of many items. He bought the entire collection, so he tells me, merely to acquire certain pieces that he wanted.”

“Would it be possible for me to see the collection?”

“I can arrange it. I promised Uhler that I would bring Shirley to his home for a weekend visit. You, Mr. Casper, as representative of Stollwood, Larksbury, Limited, are a friend of mine.”

“I am stopping at the Hotel Gardley,” remarked Casper, in a casual tone. “An antiquated hostelry, but a comfortable one. I should be pleased to accompany you, Mr. Laustin, when you visit Hampton Uhler.”

“I shall arrange the trip,” announced Laustin. “I shall communicate with you when I have done so. And you, Cranston — are you interested in gems also?”

“Very much.” A smile showed on the thin lips. “This stone is from my own collection. It is a girasol — I doubt that one could find another fire-opal that would match it in quality.”

Both Laustin and Casper stared at Cranston’s hand stretched before their eyes. They saw a gem of amazing beauty — a stone that shimmered in the light. Its hues were ever-changing in their sparkle. From deep maroon, they turned to royal purple; then to brilliant azure.

“Perhaps I might accompany you to Uhler’s.” Cranston, as he spoke, was watching Casper. The man’s eyes were fascinated by the girasol. “Let me know, Laustin, when you intend to go. You can reach me at my New Jersey home.”

“I shall certainly do so,” responded Laustin.

Cranston’s hand moved away. The conversation took another trend. An hour passed. During that period, the eyes of The Shadow, as they peered from the calm countenance of Lamont Cranston, were keen in their notation of Rodney Casper.

Time and again, the pretended Englishman glanced toward the sparkling girasol. The fascination of the gem continued to hold him.

WHEN Lamont Cranston and Rodney Casper took their leave, Lorenna and her manager had already departed. Most of Shirley’s guests were gone. Cranston left the house while Casper was still talking with Laustin and his daughter.

“The club, Stanley.”

The order came to the chauffeur as Lamont Cranston settled in the cushions of his limousine. Stanley heard it, in the tones of Lamont Cranston. He did not catch the whispered laugh that occurred shortly after the car had turned from Laustin’s driveway.

That was the laugh of The Shadow. It had significance tonight. The Shadow had watched two men at work. Claude Jerwyn and Rodney Casper had never met. Each, tonight, had been playing a game of his own.

Both sought the Spanish jewels. Jerwyn, spying, had gained the information that he could pass to Marty Lunk. The possibility of a gang raid at Hampton Uhler’s country residence had been a vital thought to Claude Jerwyn.

To Rodney Casper, the problem had been one of subtle strategy. Cleverly, he had introduced himself to Howard Laustin. Through the retired manufacturer, he was planning to gain access to Hampton Uhler’s home.

Jerwyn had seen Casper; yet it was plain that he had taken the man for an ordinary guest — not as the hidden sponsor of Valdo’s scheme. Casper, on the contrary, had not seen Jerwyn. He did not know that Lorenna’s manager had learned the details of Uhler’s strongroom.

Two men were confident. In that one respect, Rodney Casper and Claude Jerwyn were alike. Such was the situation that produced The Shadow’s laugh. For in this strange approach of cross-purposes, The Shadow held the key.

He could divine the plans of Rodney Casper. He could foresee the actions of Claude Jerwyn. Yet those who sought the wealth of Hampton Uhler had failed to see the hand of The Shadow, as it stretched across their paths!