Lingo

CHAPTER XXI. THE SHOWDOWN

A LIGHT was blinking in front of the Silver Dragon. A single bulb, it was flashing as a crimson beacon to all eyes that were watching it. From streets and alleyways on this border of Chinatown, men of crime were moving in to cover.

Hawkeye was one who saw the light. He had been with one of the mobleaders whom Lingo Queed had approached sometime before. After Lingo had gone further on to spread the news, Hawkeye had chosen his present spot, the entrance of an alleyway one hundred feet from the Silver Dragon.

Though close to Koy Dow’s shop, Hawkeye had not observed the arrival of The Shadow. He had watched darkness only until at last the blinking had commenced. Long minutes had followed, while mobsters and their leaders crept forward to be in readiness. Hawkeye, however, had kept his present station.

He had seen men come from that doorway that he once had used. He had watched them go along the street and enter the Silver Dragon. One squatty shape Hawkeye knew must be Koy Dow. He decided that the others were Buzz Dongarth and Blitz Schumbert. In fact, he had recognized a gesture that reminded him of Blitz when the biggest of the three men had motioned to the closest mobsters.

A few of the gunmen had responded; they had also entered the Silver Dragon. Hawkeye, still in the seclusion of the alley, suddenly sensed that someone was close by. He had a startled impression of a hand against his coat sleeve. He whirled about and groped in the darkness.

Then, mumbling at his own delusion, Hawkeye let his hand drop to his side. Something crinkled as he brushed his pocket. Clutching, Hawkeye crumpled a sheet of paper.

The little man moved from the alley. He slouched forward in the fashion of the other mobsters who were moving in. He neared the entrance of the Silver Dragon and stopped at a convenient point where he could catch the dull glow of the street.

Huddling, Hawkeye opened the paper. Straining, he read blue-inked words that faded as he finished them.

A message from The Shadow! To meet Cliff Marsland; to follow instructions that would come from Burbank.

Hawkeye was astounded. He knew what the blinking light meant above the Silver Dragon, yet here was proof that The Shadow was in the clear.

Hawkeye stuffed the crumpled paper in his pocket. Turning, he was about to edge away when he encountered a man who was coming across the street. A hand clamped itself on Hawkeye’s shoulder.

The little spotter swung to face Lingo Queed.

“Where are you going?” demanded Lingo savagely. “Don’t you see that light blinking? It means we’ve got The Shadow. Stick here with the rest of the torpedoes, in case the bulls butt in.”

“I’m sticking,” acknowledged Hawkeye, “I was just easing back a bit. I mooched up to see how things lay. There’s plenty of rods around here now, Lingo.”

“All right,” decided Lingo, impatiently, “just so you’re near enough to be ready.

“The Shadow showed up quicker than I thought he would. I was still out going the rounds.” As Lingo entered the Silver Dragon, Hawkeye headed back to the alley. Once there he kept on going, pausing against a wall at one point while advancing mobsters passed him. Then Hawkeye continued his course from the district.

WITHIN the Silver Dragon, a group of men were standing at the passage end. Before them was an opened panel. They were looking into a room that was the replica of the one that had descended.

Through the long slitted loopholes of the lookout post, Blitz and Buzz had seen this new room settle into place. Coming around through the shop, they were now on the threshold of the room which had supplanted the old one.

Impatient, they were awaiting Lingo’s arrival, for Koy Dow would make no further move until the big shot showed up.

Three mobsmen were with the lieutenants; all turned around as they heard footsteps. Lingo had arrived.

Pushing his way to the door, he looked into the room then stared inquiringly at Koy Dow. Buzz laughed.

“This is the top room, Lingo,” assured Buzz. “Blitz and I saw the other room go down with The Shadow in it. He’s where he won’t get out. We’ve just been waiting for you to come along and call for the finish.”

“Give them the gas,” ordered Lingo.

Koy Dow bowed. He stooped to the floor of the passage and raised the portion of a board. The action revealed a small lever which the Chinaman turned. A hiss followed.

Koy Dow waited a full minute until the sound had ended; then he bowed again to Lingo.

“Room fillee,” declared Koy Dow. “Takee couple minute to killee people in there. Me timee.” The Chinaman drew a fancy watch from his pocket and kept his eye on the timepiece. While they waited, Buzz spoke to Lingo.

“Have him bring that room up,” suggested Buzz. “We want to take a look at this mug that calls himself The Shadow.”

“You bet we do,” rumbled Blitz.

The mobsmen added their approval. Lingo was nodding his compliance. His outjawed face was showing the sour smile that characterized it.

“Timee up,” announced Koy Dow. “But maybe we no wantee room up. Maybe too much gasee.”

“Turn that other lever,” ordered Lingo. “You told me it would clear the gas.”

“Maybe not fast enough,” stalled Koy Dow. “No takee chance. Might be bad.”

“We’ll chance it,” snorted Buzz. “How about it, Lingo?”

The big shot nodded. Koy Dow pressed the second lever. A milder hiss followed; compressed air was forcing the gas from the death trap.

When the hissing ended, Koy Dow pressed a button in the floor; then pressed the lid-like board back into its tight-fitting place.

Men watched through the open doorway. They saw the floor of the upper room rising, walls and ceiling with it. There was a blocking space as a solid portion passed the doorway; then another obstruction as the paneled barrier of the lower room came upward. The Shadow had closed that barrier after his escape below.

The elevator motion ceased. Koy Dow pressed the button on the wall. The paneled door of the death trap opened.

The onlooker stared into the chamber. Buzz Dongarth sprang forward with Blitz Schumbert close behind him. Lingo Queed followed; then came the mobsters jostling Koy Dow in ahead of them. The panel dropped.

A faint odor was noticeable in the room, indicating that the gas had entered and then had cleared. But that fact was entirely unnoticed by the evil persons who had entered. Men were fuming oaths as they stared about at a chamber that was vacant save for its furnishings.

They had expected to find bodies on the floor beside the teakwood table. No figures were in view.

Incredible though it seemed to Buzz Dongarth and Blitz Schumbert, the victims whose descent they had witnessed were gone.

BUZZ snarled as he swung toward Lingo. The big shot met the lieutenant’s glare with an out-thrust of his chin. It was Lingo who growled before Buzz could mouth an angry utterance.

“Well,” demanded Lingo, “where are they? What about it? You said you saw them go down” — he turned to Blitz — “and you said the same.”

Buzz subsided; so did Blitz, who was beginning to mutter. Lingo was right. He was the one to raise the protest. Then looking for a goat, Buzz pointed an accusing finger at Koy Dow.

“Ask him!” snarled Buzz. “He was with us! He said they couldn’t get out — The Shadow and that stoolie of his — but they’re gone. Koy Dow is the only guy who can tell us how they went.” Koy Dow shrugged his shoulders.

His face registered perplexity. Blitz entered the argument.

“The chink’s a double crosser!” stormed the big racketeer. “I was thinkin’ he was phoney, Lingo, from the time we came in tonight. First, it was funny having us meet in a room that was fixed to wipe us out. Then he had us looking in from a place where anybody could have spotted us when we held those meetings.”

“Blitz is right,” put in Buzz. “Koy Dow has double-crossed us. Get him, you mugs! Make him come clean!”

Mobsters made a grab for the Chinaman. Koy Dow wriggled to the paneled door. A harsh tone from Lingo Queed stopped the gorillas from seizing their prey. The big shot was putting in his say.

“Lay off Koy Dow!” ordered Lingo. “He’s a friend of mine! I’ll have it out with him; it’s not up to you guys. Anybody that wants to bump Koy Dow has to get me first!”

“Yeah?” snarled Buzz. “Well I’m tellin’ you somethin’, Lingo. It don’t hurt who flivvered this deal — you or Koy Dow. You’re both to blame. You’re through, Lingo. This has finished you. You’re due for a rubout — and I’m here to give it!”

WITH a quick motion, Buzz yanked a revolver from his pocket. Lingo was on the job with equal speed.

The big shot whipped into view that same .38 that he planted on the dead body of Trip Burley.

It was a death duel at rapid speed; and Lingo Queed gained the bulge. His revolver barked while Buzz Dongarth was pressing the trigger of his gun. Rook’s henchman fired; but his frantic shot was too late.

Lingo’s bullet sent Buzz staggering as the lieutenant’s pellet sizzled past the big shot’s ear. With a quick dive, Lingo dropped behind the teakwood table ready to meet other comers. His move was wise, Blitz and the mobsters were on the draw, all in behalf of Buzz Dongarth’s cause.

With Lingo’s shot, Koy Dow had hammered on the panel door. The barrier opened instantly; as Koy Dow dived through it, yellow faces appeared above leveled guns. Koy Dow had stationed Chinese henchmen in the offing.

A gorilla shouted warning. Forgetting Lingo, Blitz and the others wheeled toward the door. The Chinese opened fire as the mobsters started a rush. The crooks sprawled upon the floor.

Lingo was leaping past the tottering gorillas. Blitz, steadying himself upon the teakwood table, aimed for the big shot. Lingo whirled to fire; but found it unnecessary. Blitz’s supporting arm had weakened; the racketeer sagged forward on the table.

Chinese guns had done their work at close range. But whatever Koy Dow’s allegiance, whether for The Shadow or merely against crime, the Celestial still favored the man who had showed himself a friend. As Lingo dashed down the passage, Koy Dow uttered guttural orders to let the fleeing big shot pass.

Into the shop itself dashed Lingo, apparently knowing what he might encounter. An incoming mobleader stopped as he saw the big shot. Then, from the rear, the fellow caught the cries of wounded gorillas.

“Get Lingo! Get the big shot!”

Before the mobleader could respond, Lingo drove his gun against the man’s head. The mobleader plunged headlong into a mass of Chinese bric-a-brac. He emerged just as Lingo dived through the outer door, passing two gangsters stationed there. The mobleader bellowed to get Lingo. Gorillas turned to obey.

Again, Koy Dow furnished aid. His Chinese henchmen were piling forward, firing to repel the invasion from the street. Mobsmen dived for cover and fired back. Chinese reached the outer door and opened their volleys.

Only a few scattered shots followed Lingo as the big shot fled headlong for a side street near the heart of Chinatown.

A battle was on; and as mobleaders spattered the shop front with their bullets, new forces came dashing into the fray. Police revolvers barked from near-by streets. Joe Cardona had responded to a new tip-off.

He and his men were carving in to shatter mobland’s outburst.

The attack on the Silver Dragon faded. Koy Dow and his Chinamen were in charge, with none but dead enemies within their portals. Outside, rats were scurrying to the shelter of bad land dives. The police, coming with concentrated force, were driving them in all directions save one.

None of the fleeing mobsters had chosen to take the direction that Lingo Queed had followed. One fugitive might risk the lights of Chinatown; but not a score, with the police in pursuit. The law had scored a victory; and with it the rule of Lingo Queed had automatically ended.

Lingo Queed was king no more; and in his abdication, The Shadow had profited. Lingo, in that final fray, had eliminated Buzz Dongarth; the one man who might have carried prompt warning back to Rook Hollister who still held Clyde Burke captive.

That was the one stroke which The Shadow needed. But the master fighter had known that he could not again show his black-cloaked figure within the mob surrounded shop of Koy Dow.

Buzz Dongarth, through circumstance, had been saved from death at the point of an automatic wielded by The Shadow; but the work that might well have been done by a .45 had been accomplished by a bullet from a .38.

While mobland’s seething hordes fled for cover, too scattered even to take up the trail of Lingo Queed, The Shadow was on his way from Chinatown. He had left massed battle to the law. He, himself, was bound upon a more urgent mission.