The Cobra

CHAPTER XVI THE MEETING

CLIFF MARSLAND was no longer smiling when he entered King Zobell’s living room. The Shadow’s agent seemed quite unconcerned. He plucked a cigarette from a box on Zobell’s table and lighted it with a match from the stand.

“Where am I parking, King?” he questioned. “Little room in the front?”

“Yeah,” affirmed the big shot.

“All right,” returned Cliff.

With no other explanation, Cliff strolled in nonchalant fashion through the door at the front of the living room. Neither King Zobell or Duster Corbin evidenced any suspicion of the action.

The front room to the left of Cliff’s belonged to King Zobell. There was a telephone in the room — an extension of the one which Zobell had in the living room. Cliff felt sure that neither King Zobell nor Duster Corbin intended to make a call. He chanced it.

Entering Zobell’s room, Cliff raised the receiver and dialed Burbank’s number. The Shadow’s contact man responded almost immediately:

“Burbank speaking.”

“Marsland,” declared Cliff, in a low tone. “Diamond Rigler is working for The Cobra. Called him from downstairs. Reported as Fang Nine.

“Diamond is coming up to relieve me. I’m staying. Duster going out. The Cobra is due to strike.”

“Report received.”

Cliff was about to give further details when a shaft of light appeared upon the floor of the room between this bedroom and the living room. Evidently King Zobell was coming in this direction.

Cliff hung up with promptitude. He made a quick dive through the door. As Zobell appeared from the door of the living room, Cliff was apparently coming out of the little room which the big shot had assigned to him.

“I’ll give you those papers, Duster.” Zobell, half turned toward the living room, was speaking to his lieutenant. “They’re in my room. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Cliff walked by King Zobell. He reached the living room, dropped in an easy chair and picked up the cigarette which he had placed on an ash stand. As he puffed in silence, Cliff began to analyze the situation.

HE was sure that he knew The Cobra’s game. Cliff’s reasoning was precise. Since Diamond Rigler was The Cobra’s minion, why had not Diamond opened the way for The Cobra in the past — on some occasion when Diamond was here alone with King Zobell?

Cliff saw the answer, The Cobra did not want it to be known that Diamond was a traitor. Tonight’s scheme would cover that fact.

First, Diamond would probably wait until Duster Corbin had departed. Then Diamond would come in to relieve Cliff. The Cobra would follow. The purpose would be to kill both King Zobell and Cliff.

Diamond would make his getaway with The Cobra. Duster Corbin, returning, would find the bodies. Perhaps Diamond would stay instead of leaving! At any rate, the scene would indicate that The Cobra had arrived before Diamond came to relieve Cliff!

A perfect scheme — one that would keep Diamond as valuable to The Cobra as before. Cliff settled back into his chair. All was well for the present — particularly as long as Duster Corbin remained in the apartment.

King Zobell was returning with a stack of papers. Duster received them and began to go through them. At that moment a buzzer sounded: once — then twice.

“It’s Diamond,” remarked King Zobell. “Let him in, Marsland.”

Cliff went to the elevator shaft and pressed the switch. He could not withhold a grin. To his way of thinking, Diamond had made a bull. Sauntering back to the living room, Cliff took his seat and lighted a fresh cigarette. Diamond Rigler had evidently tired of waiting and had taken it for granted that Duster Corbin was already out.

A minute later, Diamond Rigler appeared from the anteroom. Cliff watched his face, looking for signs of surprise.

There were none. Diamond had a poker player’s countenance. Nevertheless, Cliff figured that Diamond was probably annoyed at finding Duster Corbin here.

For if Duster went out leaving both Cliff and Diamond with King Zobell, each of the secondary bodyguards would share in blame should The Cobra appear and slay King Zobell. Cliff’s feelings were those of mingled elation and disappointment. He was pleased because a block had apparently stopped The Cobra’s plans; he was annoyed because the showdown would probably be postponed.

Ten minutes passed. Duster Corbin completed his examination of the papers. He pocketed them. He arose to leave the apartment.

“I’ll be back by midnight,” he informed. “See you all later.”

Cliff felt calm security as he puffed his cigarette. Duster passed the door of the anteroom. Diamond seemed dejected as he slouched in a chair. Then, with quick succession of events, came the unexpected.

CLIFF heard the sliding of the elevator door as Duster Corbin opened it. A sharp, startled exclamation; then a revolver shot. Staggering with long, convulsive bounds, Duster Corbin appeared from the anteroom. His hands were clasped to his body. His lips voiced two hoarse words:

“The Cobra!”

Cliff was on his feet as Duster Corbin sprawled upon the floor and rolled over dead. As Cliff reached for his gun, an order stopped him. Diamond Rigler had risen; he had drawn a revolver. He was covering Cliff. The Shadow’s agent had acted too late.

“Up with ‘em!”

Cliff’s arms raised at Diamond’s command. Cliff was staring toward the doorway through which Duster Corbin had staggered. There he saw the author of the shot that had felled King Zobell’s chief lieutenant.

The Cobra!

Clad in wrinkled brown, his painted hood a monstrous sight, The Cobra stood with smoking revolver in his hand. His painted eyes; the muzzle of the gun which he held — both were directed toward King Zobell. The big shot sat petrified. He was gripping the arms of his chair.

Cliff Marsland saw his own mistake. He had not calculated on this. He remembered Diamond Rigler’s words over the telephone:

“The arrangement works if Duster Corbin is still there…”

This was the arrangement! Diamond Rigler, upon leaving the elevator in the anteroom, had pressed the switch so that the car would be ready for The Cobra! The snakelike slayer had come up in the elevator. He had been waiting for Duster Corbin!

Cliff saw death. He could picture himself slain with Duster and King Zobell. The big shot and two dead bodyguards. That would be a perfect smoke screen for Diamond Rigler’s treachery!

“Ss-s-s-s-s-s!”

King Zobell cowered as he heard The Cobra’s hiss. Trapped, the big shot was a pitiful figure. His big, bluff face showed terror.

The Cobra showed no mercy. Upright at the door, he pressed the trigger. The revolver barked. King Zobell uttered a hoarse gasp that ended sharply.

The big shot crumpled in his chair. His hands slipped from the sides and dangled loosely. A red splotch began to form upon his white shirt front — the life blood drawn by The Cobra’s bullet!

THERE was no hiss as The Cobra turned toward Cliff Marsland. But those painted eyes formed a merciless expression. Cliff was due to die. Fiercely, he took the only course that offered life.

With a wild leap, Cliff flung himself on Diamond Rigler. He caught the man off guard. He grabbed Diamond’s right wrist with his left hand; with his right arm he seized his foeman’s body. Grappling, Cliff drew Diamond back across the room, using the man’s body as shield against The Cobra’s fire.

Coldly, The Cobra watched the struggle. It could be no more than futile. Sooner or later, the pair would break. Cliff’s unprotected body would be an easy target for The Cobra’s aim. Cliff realized this as he fought. He made a bold clutch for Diamond’s gun and failed to grab it.

Diamond, lunging his left hand free, delivered a blow to Cliff’s jaw. Cliff staggered and sprawled against the door to the front of the apartment. Half stunned, he lay there.

The Cobra was watching from the door. His revolver was idle in his hand. Cliff saw why, as he turned to gaze at Diamond Rigler. With a vengeful snarl, Diamond was raising his own gun to end Cliff Marsland’s life.

Calmly, Cliff closed his eyes. He could not stop the shot. Murder was in the making; Cliff was to be its victim. Surging thoughts swept through Cliff’s brain. They ended with a surprise that opened Cliff’s eyes.

A crash came from beyond the spot where Diamond Rigler stood aiming. Impelled by a terrific smash from without, the entire glass of the window frame had been smashed inward.

Beyond the shivered pane were a pair of blazing eyes, peering from blackness. A gloved hand gripped the bars beyond the window; from another fist projected the muzzle of a mighty automatic.

The Shadow had arrived! He had come by the roof of the apartment house — over the precarious cornice to the window below.

Though too late to witness the death of King Zobell, The Shadow had come in time to fight for Cliff Marsland’s life. Out of the night had The Shadow come — for his meeting with The Cobra!