The Golden Grotto

CHAPTER XIX THE GOLDEN GROTTO

WHEN Harry Vincent awoke, he was first conscious of a dull pain at the back of his head. His senses gradually returning, he realized that he was in a little room which was dimly lighted by indirect illumination which entered through a wicket in a door.

Harry sat up and saw that he had been lying upon a cot, and that it comprised — with a chair — the only furniture in the room. Looking about, he observed that the walls were like the sides of a cave.

A small bell hung above the wicket in the door. Its obvious purpose was to summon some one. Harry pulled a cord attached to the bell. In response to the tinkle, a key grated in a lock. The door opened, and Harry saw the smirking face of Lester.

“What’s the game?” questioned Harry slowly. “Where am I? What has happened?”

“How do you feel?” asked Lester.

“Not so good,” admitted Harry.

“Would you like to see Professor Sheldon?” the man asked.

“Yes,” said Harry.

Lester stepped aside, and bade Harry walk from the room. Obeying, Harry found himself in a roughly hewn corridor. He followed the passage until he came to another wicketed door. Lester unlocked this barrier, and Harry stepped into the strangest room that he had ever seen.

This was a large, vaulted apartment, lighted by electric lamps, which were hidden behind projecting cornices of rock. The whole cavern shimmered in the light. Flakish formations in the stone interior gave the whole place a golden glow. Lester made a remark which voiced Harry’s thoughts.

“This is the professor’s golden grotto,” the man said.

So interested was Harry in the scene above him that he had not noticed the presence of persons in this vaulted chamber. His ears now detected the sound of a spoken voice which came in muffled tones because of the hush which lay over all.

Looking in the direction of the sound, Harry saw Professor Kirby Sheldon talking solemnly to a silent group of men and women who were seated on cushions that lay on the floor of the cavern. Harry noticed that these people were not only well dressed, but intelligent in appearance. None of them seemed inimical toward the professor, but all wore a discontented expression.

Lester motioned Harry to a cushion. As Harry approached, the professor paused in his talk and gave a short bow in the newcomer’s direction.

“This man, my friends,” he said, “is Harry Vincent — a new member of our group. He is one of Utopian ideals. He is not, however, conversant with the circumstances that brought you here; nor do you know about him. Therefore, I shall conclude my prepared discourse, and delve into personalities.”

As Harry took his seat, the professor, with solemn gestures, indicated the different persons one by one, naming them so that Harry could recognize his new companions.

“Muriel Hastings — Joan Foxcroft” — Professor Sheldon was indicating two fashionably attired young ladies — “have found the climate of this delightful grotto preferable to that of Bermuda, where they are supposed to be sojourning at present.

“Roy Darwin” — he pointed out a man of dignified expression — “is on a trip abroad, so most persons believe. As for Clayton Peale, he finds our grotto much superior to California.

“These young ladies” — Sheldon motioned toward the last two — “are Gale Sawyer and Elise Cathcart. According to newspaper reports, they were kidnaped. In fact, Elise thought that she was being kidnaped, and dropped a fragment of a handkerchief into the bay while she was coming here.”

The last words brought a gasp of astonishment to Harry Vincent’s lips. Staring upward at the vaulted roof, Harry realized where the grotto was located. This room was a natural cavern that occupied the interior of the island known as Little Knob!

“I see that you are interested, Vincent,” remarked the professor, with a thin smile. “Yes, we are within Little Knob. This grotto, my friends, was connected by a passage — partly natural and partly hewn — to the cellar of my cottage at East Point. Thus I have had constant access to it for many months. Last night, I abandoned my cottage — and the passage was permanently blocked. So we are quite secluded here in the grotto.

“These people, Vincent, are ones whom I chose from the lecture group which met at the home of Anthony Hargreaves. After each lecture, I chose two to come here. Through the aid of people in my employ, the people of my choice were brought to this place.

“It was my intention to bring three more pairs — making a total of one dozen Utopians. However, the unfortunate events surrounding the departure of Gale Sawyer and Elise Cathcart prevented such action.

“My future Utopians are embarking on a cruise with Anthony Hargreaves. So I shall know where to find them. It so happens that Hargreaves — and others of the group — are not suitable subjects for my Utopia. Therefore, it shall become my duty to eliminate them — through destruction — when I acquire the others whom I need.

“As for Harry Vincent, ladies and gentlemen, I chose him chiefly because he tried to interfere with my plans, and happened to be a good subject for Utopia. He had a friend also — an artist named Malbray Woodruff — who will join us later. Woodruff is scarcely a Utopian subject — but I intend to experiment with him to see if he will fit into my scheme.”

As the professor paused to beam upon his listeners, Harry sensed a menace in the man’s words. All of Kirby Sheldon’s former sincerity seemed missing now. The sociologist had deliberately advanced his belief that the end justified the means. He was planning to seize other persons — and at the same time to kill those whom he did not care to acquire.

“PAY attention, please,” remarked the professor, looking directly at Harry. “Woodruff will be here later. He is resting at present, as you were. I do not care to converse with him, so I am counting upon you to initiate him into Utopian ideals.

“This grotto is not Utopia. Far away, in a distant part of the world, I have an island where we all are going. There we shall enjoy Utopia — on an autocratic basis. My word will mean life or death.

“I possess a very excellent boat which affords us entrance and exit from a cavern adjacent to this grotto. It is not suitable for a long voyage, however. So — a few weeks ago — I utilized it to acquire a shipment of gold which was aboard the steamship Patagonia. I was forced, at that time, to rely upon the services of worthless men, whom I conveniently eliminated by leaving them to the crew of the Patagonia.

“Thus we can call this place the golden grotto in more than mere appearance. Hoarded here is a quantity of gold valued at more than two million dollars. That sum was to be used for the purchase of a suitable ship to take us to our Isle of Utopia — also to pay certain of my aids who prefer gold to Utopia.

“Thanks to Anthony Hargreaves, I believe that I shall gain the ship that I need without the necessity of secret purchase. So you must bide your time here for a few days longer. Then we shall travel in the utmost comfort.”

The other persons seemed to understand what Professor Sheldon meant. Harry was puzzled. But his time of learning came immediately when the professor retired.

Harry was immediately accepted as a companion in misfortune. He was at once told of the yacht trip which Anthony Hargreaves had arranged.

“The professor hates Hargreaves,” explained Clayton Peale. “He says that Hargreaves is a menace to society — a climber who is out of place, and who deserves nothing. This is terrible, Vincent. Think of it! Hargreaves will have twenty guests aboard his yacht. Of those, Sheldon wants only six. He intends a deed of piracy. He will capture that yacht, take the few he wants, and sacrifice the others!”

“Too bad about Hargreaves,” chimed in Darwin. “The professor’s gloss has vanished. He has exhibited a venomous disposition here. He detests Hargreaves, and will think nothing of murdering him. Fancy it — a man threatened with death aboard his own yacht. Piracy on the high seas!”

“Mr. Hargreaves is not unfortunate,” asserted Joan Foxcroft, in a solemn tone. “We are to be sentenced to life imprisonment on an island ruled by a madman.”

The words sounded true. A chill of silence came over the group that occupied the glittering grotto. Only Harry Vincent voiced a hope.

“Perhaps,” he said, “the professor’s plan will fail. The capture of a yacht is a difficult undertaking—”

“You have not heard the facts,” interposed Darwin. “Here, in another cavern, the professor has a group of mobsters. Others have been cunningly placed aboard the yacht as members of the crew. We are powerless here — and so will our friends on the cruise.”

Harry remembered the reports on the Patagonia affair. He remembered how the underlings in the robbery had been cruelly sacrificed by their pretended comrades aboard the mystery boat that had carried away the gold. He realized that Professor Kirby Sheldon had succeeded then, and would be well equipped to succeed in this new attack.

“The professor is a hypocrite,” asserted Clayton Peale, in an emphatic tone. “His Utopian ideas are a plaything — and we are the poor humans who will suffer torment under his control. Those millions that he stole show that he is not adverse to wealth. Should his Utopian schemes fail or be forgotten, he will become the most powerful crook in all the world.

“He has forced me to write letters — to sign documents — to follow his bidding on threat of death. Others of you have had the same experience. I am a man of considerable wealth. I realize his game. He can tap my resources for half a million.”

“In my case,” put in Gale Sawyer, “he has demanded letters calling for a ransom. He says that if he uses them, he will get the money for my return, whether I am dead or alive. Think of us — on this pretended Utopian island, where he intends to take us — while he can extort money from our relatives!”

THESE were not idle conjectures. They were statements of fact that revealed the professor’s true character.

Behind his benign mask, the old sociologist was a criminal of amazing caliber. These conjectures on the part of the victims were obviously no more than reflections of the solid ideas that were already completely planned in Kirby Sheldon’s crooked brain!

Harry Vincent was listening — and his thoughts were far ahead of those expressed by his companions. Harry had encountered supercriminals before, and he realized that Professor Sheldon was a master beyond them all.

In Sheldon, Harry was forced to admit, The Shadow would find a foe to tax his genius. Professor Sheldon had been playing a waiting game — so had The Shadow. But The Shadow had relied upon Harry to gain vital information. In that task, Harry had failed sadly. Last night, upon reading The Shadow’s message, he had learned for the first time that Professor Sheldon was not above suspicion.

That was the message which Harry had received. Realizing his predicament, Harry had faced Sheldon with an accusation as the only hope of safety.

Elbert Cordes had suspected some one on the Point. That had been the reason for the recluse’s expeditions in Woodruff’s boat. Woodruff, suspicious of Cordes, had been overpowered by Lester, who served as Sheldon’s safety man.

Cordes, suddenly realizing that Sheldon was the master plotter, had been killed — with Downs — by Lester, who was listening outside. Harry had been spared only because Sheldon wanted him for a member of the experimental group on the island of Utopia.

Here, in this grotto, Harry had learned the most drastic stroke which the professor contemplated. The murder of innocent people — the forcible seizure of others — these were Sheldon’s dreams. Harry knew them now; but all method of communication had been ended.

The way to this grotto was blocked. A secret entrance, guarded by Sheldon’s men, served as an exit for the mystery boat. People, met by the boat with Lester at the helm, were brought here.

Guessing some facts, hearing others from his companions in misery, Harry now possessed information that would enable The Shadow to make an effort to strive against the supercrook. But not a word could reach The Shadow!

There was just one fact that Harry Vincent failed to consider. It would have comforted him had he thought of it. That fact was that Professor Sheldon’s master stroke would be directed against the yacht owned by Anthony Hargreaves.

There would be the battleground. That was a fact which The Shadow had divined. When The Shadow saw a crisis, he sought it. That was The Shadow’s method!

The climax would come on the boat!