The Death Giver

CHAPTER XX. THADE ORDAINS

GREEN gloom pervaded the lair of Thade, The Death Giver. Seated upon his dais, the master killer was staring toward the door that led to the anteroom. He had just received the signal from Paul Roderick at the bottom of the elevator shaft.

Thade waited, as though counting seconds. His Nubian servants were like statues on — either side. With a fierce display of his fanglike teeth, Thade pressed a switch beside his chair. The portal raised, and Paul Roderick strode into the room, the open door of the elevator showing behind him.

The green glow made all faces appear strange. Paul Roderick’s countenance was not visible in its usual details. That was not unexpected by Thade. The Death Giver preferred this weird light because it enabled his ghoulish face to glow more effectively. To Thade, life was a tragic drama in which he loved the role of villain.

Roderick paused before the master’s chair. Something in his manner told Thade that plans had gone amiss. The Death Giver scowled.

“The scheme has failed,” asserted Roderick.

“Failed?” questioned Thade sharply. “Failed? Thade, The Death Giver, never fails!”

“It was the work of a traitor,” insisted Roderick. “Harlan Treffin—”

Thade leered fiendishly. He gazed at Roderick sharply, and asked a fierce, challenging question.

“You delivered death to Treffin?”

“No.”

Thade’s claws gripped the arms of the chair. The Death Giver half arose as though to hurl himself upon his lieutenant. Amid that display of surging wrath, Roderick’s suave voice put forth an explanation.

“The punishment of the traitor,” he declared, “should lie in the hands of Thade, The Death Giver. If I bring Treffin from below—”

A gloating light shone in Thade’s eyes. This statement from Paul Roderick had been a timely one. It turned Thade’s mind from thoughts of futile effort to those of evil vengeance.

“You have captured the traitor!” exclaimed The Death Giver. “Ah! That is to my liking. Tell me no more. After we have dealt with him we can make new plans. My glass-covered coffin is empty. Harlan Treffin shall be its new incumbent!”

The Death Giver saw Paul Roderick motion toward the door. Thade nodded and pressed the switch that raised the black portal. Roderick went into the anteroom. Thade dropped the door behind him.

LONG minutes went by. Roderick did not return. Thade, sitting silently upon the dais, realized that his lieutenant had not stated how long it would require to bring the traitor. At last, a small light glowed beside the chair. It was the signal that Roderick was at the elevator shaft. Thade pressed the switch that sent the lift on its downward journey.

After waiting the proper time, Thade emitted a gleeful chuckle. Roderick and Treffin must be at the top by now. They would be waiting in the anteroom. Thade pressed the switch and the black portal ascended.

A squad of men burst into the room. Foremost among them was Detective Joe Cardona.

Flourishing revolvers, the detectives covered Thade and his Nubians so quickly that resistance was impossible. With hands half-raised, The Death Giver glowered at his enemies.

Standing in the center of the room, backed by half a dozen detectives, Cardona saw that he was master of the situation. He suspected a dangerous trap; and his caution told him that further advance would be a mistake. It was better to hold the prisoners at bay until this strange man in the chair had spoken. Well did Cardona know that precipitous action might bring disaster.

“Who are you?” came Thade’s hissing question. “By what right are you here?”

“We are here in the name of the law,” was Cardona’s answer. “We are here to arrest the man who calls himself The Death Giver.”

“I am Thade, The Death Giver.”

There was a pause; then Cardona, quietly relaxing, spoke gruff words. He watched Thade, to note the effect.

“We’ve got the goods on you,” declared the detective. “We’ve got the cards you sent to Bellew; we’ve got the letters you sent to Langhorne. You’ve been double-crossed. We came here on a tip-off. Rang the bell of that trick elevator, and came up when you invited us.”

“I am your prisoner, then,” said Thade, in a lowered tone.

“You guessed it,” retorted Cardona. “Slide out of that chair, and no monkey business. Come on — make it snappy! Walk up here.”

Cardona jingled a pair of handcuffs in his left hand. He saw Thade as an easy one to handle. The green walls and the tufted carpet — such bits of atmosphere meant nothing after the few minutes it took to get used to them.

Cardona laughed gruffly as he saw the terrible man who called himself The Death Giver trying to ease his stooped form from the chair that stood on the platform.

It was that pitiful action that caused Cardona to lose his natural caution. He offered no protest as he saw Thade drop his hands weakly to his side. He noticed the right hand of the villain press against the arm of the chair.

Then, before Joe or his men could fire a single shot, the unexpected happened.

As Thade pressed the proper switch, the whole ceiling of the room came sweeping downward at the sides. The green hangings were a huge canopy that opened like a parachute. The center, firmly affixed to the actual ceiling, held aloft. The first warning Cardona and his men received was the moment when the tentlike folds had dropped about them!

An instant later, the portal dropped in front of Thade’s great chair. The Nubians sprang back behind the curtain and joined their master on the dais. Muffled shots sounded beneath the canopy which had entrapped Cardona and his men in its insidious folds. Thade’s rejoinder was an evil laugh.

Fight as they could, those men could not force their way from beneath that heavy device. Within the ceiling cloth was a meshwork of steel wire that would resist the fiercest efforts to break loose. The bottom of the canopy was drawn tight by the cables that had pulled it down with the outer layer of the wall hangings. This was the certain trap that Thade had set within his lair!

TWENTY minutes — possibly fifteen — that would be the time required for those prisoners to burst loose.

Within that space they would be incapable of action. Thade’s hand was on a lever at the left side of the chair. His teeth were gleaming, and the broad smiles of the Nubians reflected the master’s joy.

Behind the bullet-proof portal, Thade was ready to release a charge of poison gas, through the ceiling hole where the canopy was anchored at the top. Fifteen minutes! In three minutes, those captured detectives would be dead!

Gloating, Thade uttered a mighty shout, loud enough for the imprisoned men to hear, should they choose to listen. His words of a cry of triumph.

“Death!” shrilled the wizened monster. “Death! I am Thade, The Death Giver! You shall die! Thade has ordained!”

The hand was on the switch; but something stayed its progress. With an angry snarl, Thade stared downward to see another hand upon his own. The glittering light of a sparkling gem shone before The Death Giver’s startled eyes.

It was The Shadow’s girasol. Its reflecting rays betokened the mystery of the man who wore it.

Thade stared upward, to see a form in black beside him. The moment that Thade had dropped the portal, The Shadow had entered this sinister room. Through the curtain, beside the portal, he had stepped to grip and stay the hand of death.

The automatic in The Shadow’s hand was pointing squarely at The Death Giver’s ghoulish face. The Nubians stood helpless. They, as well as Thade, realized that this one black-clad being was more dangerous than the squad of detectives who had entered here before him.

The Shadow’s hand thrust Thade’s claw from the lever. The monster settled back in his chair, afraid to make a move against this spectral foe.

The hand of doom had faltered. Thade, The Death Giver, had ordained; The Shadow had countermanded his decree of murder!