The Golden Grotto

CHAPTER XXII THE RETURN

SWISHING through the silent water, its submerged prow cutting through the glassy, waveless surface, Professor Sheldon’s mystery ship slowed its course as it entered the bay near East Point. The bulwarks were down; the professor, standing in the cockpit, was looking forward beyond the empty cabin that lay beneath the deck.

Directly ahead loomed Little Knob — a black, obscure mound in the gloomy night. Lester, at the helm of the defeated craft, was guiding it with cool precision. He picked a spot that he seemed able to distinguish without difficulty. The black ship slowly nosed its way among the rocks, swerving into a tiny cove.

All those on board crouched low. Inkiness swept over them as the ship, virtually awash, glided beneath a flattened arch of stone. The black roof began to slope upward; a half minute later the yacht swerved into a channel where a single light marked the way.

Professor Sheldon and his picked men — Lester, Shoyer, and two gangsters from Beef Norbin’s mob — were traveling through subterranean canals, heading to the base where this strange ship was kept.

The strange ship turned a curving channel and came to a stop beside a small dock. Here, above a metal doorway, were lights that illuminated the grotesque scene. The door was open, and a man was standing there. He pounced forward to greet the returning men.

It was Beef Norbin.

“You got the yacht, eh?” he exclaimed in exultation, while two men beside him were seizing guy lines to anchor the craft. “Good work, chief! We can load and get started—”

Professor Sheldon raised his hand and further words died on Norbin’s lips. The old man clambered from the black ship and drew Beef along the dock. The gang leader listened in bewilderment as Sheldon spoke.

“We failed,” said the professor. “Failed completely” — his tone was fiendish in its grimness — “because of the same man — the one that you told me about—”

“The Shadow!”

“Yes. The Shadow. He was aboard the yacht.”

“How did he get there?”

“I do not know. He shot down the mutineers. When we were starting machine-gun fire, he leaped from the yacht and carried our gun overboard.”

Beef Norbin whistled.

“Where is The Shadow now?” he questioned in an awed tone.

A spark of fiendish exultation glittered on Sheldon’s face. He had seen the finish of the fight; like those on the yacht, he shared the belief that The Shadow had perished.

“At the bottom of the ocean,” he declared. “That, at least, is comforting. Our plans have failed — but I have others!”

THE professor looked about him as though admiring the fittings of this channel. He waved his hand toward the door that led to the golden grotto beyond.

“This arrangement,” remarked the professor, “cost me a small fortune, Norbin. But why should that worry me? We have two millions in gold. I have papers, documents, and plans that will enable me to amass millions more. Our boat is swift — the weather is perfect for a quick voyage.

“This time, I have provided against the alarm. When Traymer sent the radiogram, he instructed the operator — one of our men on the yacht — to demolish the sending apparatus. We did not intend to use it. I am confident that a good job was done this time, much better than the makeshift method employed aboard the Patagonia.

“We can head inshore to a landing spot in Long Island Sound. There unload, and scuttle the ship. Or we can take to sea. I have a perfect base arranged on one of the uninhabited islands of the Bermuda group. We can go on, if necessary, to the West Indies.”

“Let’s hit for the Sound,” suggested Beef. “We can make a quick getaway and scram out of sight. With The Shadow finished, it will be soft.”

“You may be right, Norbin,” responded the professor. “However, I shall decide the matter. Our present work is to load the ship as rapidly as possible. You are in charge, Norbin. You have a dozen men all told. Get all the gold aboard — all the documents — everything that we require. Lester and Shoyer will aid you. I am allowing twenty minutes at the most. If we land elsewhere on Long Island, I am counting upon you getting the automobiles.”

“That will be easy,” responded Norbin with a grin.

“We have until dawn,” remarked the professor. “So our plans are bound to work; but the less time we spend here, the better. Where are my guests?”

Beef Norbin laughed.

“In the grotto,” he said, “entertaining themselves. They’ll be disappointed, I guess.”

“I shall see them,” remarked the professor. “I shall talk to them while you are loading our boat. I shall tell them what I intend to do with them.”

Beef Norbin’s face clouded.

“We’re going to have trouble,” he stated, “if we have to take care of that bunch when we make a getaway. It may mean two trips.”

“Do not worry,” said the professor, with a wan smile. “I shall attend to my guests. My plans for a Utopia have been abandoned for the present. Other suitable subjects will be available if I resume them. There is no dearth of specimens for my experiments. Come.”

BEEF NORBIN followed the professor through the doorway. The other men joined at Beef’s wave. The professor led the way through an upward-sloping corridor. The path diverged. The old man stopped at a barrier while the others went to the right.

“Load rapidly,” ordered Sheldon. “All to work — at once.”

Beef Norbin nodded. Lester and Shoyer gave the same sign. The professor opened his door, and walked down a flight of steps. He came to another barrier and unlocked it. He stepped into the golden grotto.

On the other side of the vaulted chamber were his so-called guests.

They looked up as the professor entered. With smiling face and folded arms, the old man studied them benignly as he walked a few paces into the grotto.

Professor Sheldon began to speak. Behind him, through the opened door, came the tramp of men carrying the first load of wealth to the subterranean dock.

Out beyond — by the deck itself — the scene was deserted. The mystery ship floated easily, moored to its resting place. In the glow from the stone walls, fantastic, shadowy streaks adorned the sides of the cavern. Those shadows seemed to waver in the light as though endowed with life.

A silent, sinister scene it was. When the first of the boat-loaders came through the doorway, his echoing footsteps sounded weirdly beneath the vaulted roof. Others followed; the loading was on in relays.

Soon the work would be complete; then the getaway would follow. Desperate men were busy, using haste. Still, the shadows wavered on the walls beside the dock!