The Golden Grotto

CHAPTER XXIII THE GETAWAY

PROFESSOR SHELDON had been speaking eloquently for more than fifteen minutes. Standing near the doorway of the grotto, the old sociologist had the air he used in delivering a lecture. His listeners — those whom he had brought here forcibly — were keyed with interest.

Even Harry Vincent, who sensed some impending danger, was forced to admire the ease of the professor’s tone. In fact, the only sullen member of the group was Malbray Woodruff. The artist had joined them this evening, and had been taciturn and morose.

The professor was summing up an oration on his chosen subject — Utopia. As he reached the concluding words, he heard a whistling from the corridor. Professor Sheldon smiled. The mystery ship was loaded. The time had come for the climax of his drama.

“I have talked of Utopia,” declared the sociologist. “It is now time for me to talk of myself — and of you. I hope that you have enjoyed your sojourn in this golden grotto. No others will inhabit it henceforth. I intend to abandon it tonight.”

The professor pointed to the door behind him, and, stepping back, rested his hand upon a lever there.

“The floor of this grotto,” explained the professor, “happens to be below the level of the bay. Therefore, by release of this lever, I can open special sluices and the grotto will be flooded to a considerable depth, preventing entrance in the future.

“I had planned, after our departure tonight, to flood the grotto. I still plan to do so; but I have made changes in my own purposes. I regret, ladies and gentlemen, that I shall have to abandon my present schemes for a Utopia.”

The listeners did not know whether to accept this as a good or evil token. There was something ominous in the professor’s tone. Harry sensed it. Nearer to the professor than the others, Harry was slowly crouching, in the knowledge that the time for desperate action might be here.

“The grotto will flood quite rapidly,” said the professor. “Therefore, I intend to climb the steps in the passage, after closing the door behind me. This door locks automatically. It is my regret that I shall be on one side of the door and you on the other.

“Tonight, my friends, I have chosen wealth in preference to Utopia — and my only excuse is that untoward events compelled the decision!”

Sheldon’s hand was on the lever. Harry Vincent was hopelessly rising to his feet. He was unarmed; so were his companions. It was twenty yards to the professor, who was already in the doorway. A hopeless chance — and Harry refused to take it. For should he drive the professor from the grotto, all chance of safety would be ended!

ONLY the unexpected could save the eight doomed persons — and the unexpected came. A pistol shot sounded from far along the corridor beyond the professor. A second shot — a third — then a volley mingled with startled cries!

Unconsciously, Professor Kirby Sheldon turned to look up the steps. That was Harry Vincent’s cue. With a mad spring, Harry leaped for the professor. The old man turned just in time to see him coming, and made a vain effort to jerk the lever. Harry caught his hand and wrested him away from the doorway.

Cries of approval came from Harry’s companions. Clayton Peale and Roy Darwin were rising. They saw that Harry was winning in the struggle with the old man: their thought was to protect the girls — to hurry them from the grotto.

But would it be safe to rush into the face of fire? Shots were echoing along the corridors without the grotto — shots that were approaching the stone stairs. As Darwin and Peale hesitated, a man came stumbling down those very steps, and staggered into the grotto. It was Lester.

“The Shadow!” The man’s voice was uttered in a frightened tone as he stared with wild, unseeing eyes. “The Shadow! He was in the boat — found revolvers there — came from the wall to attack us—”

Until that moment, Lester had not realized that Sheldon was in trouble. He had not seen the professor, struggling with Harry Vincent, away from the door of the grotto. He had only gasped the dread news — word that was proven by the shots that still echoed from outside, where The Shadow, striking from darkness, had staged the unexpected sortie.

But when Lester noticed the professor, he made a leap in that direction, swinging his revolver to cover Harry Vincent. The threat of the gun had withheld Darwin and Peale. They were powerless, at their distance, when they saw the menace that lay over Harry Vincent.

It was Harry himself who met the attack. Throwing the professor aside, he managed to grapple Lester before the underling had time to fire. At that moment, Shoyer staggered in. He was no menace. He sprawled dead as he reached the floor of the grotto. He had been finished by The Shadow.

Roy Darwin and Clayton Peale came suddenly to their senses as the situation turned. Lester threw Harry across the floor. He raised his hand to riddle Harry with bullets. Darwin leaped forward, but did so hopelessly. At the same instant, Professor Sheldon, suddenly regaining his feet, scrambled toward the doorway to clutch the lever. Peale was after him — also too far away to prevent the deed.

AS all seemed lost, a shot came from the stone steps. The Shadow had arrived. His figure, obscure in the gloom of the corridor, was a sign of vengeance. But in that shot, The Shadow had been forced to make an important choice. It was either Lester, about to kill Harry Vincent — or Professor Kirby Sheldon, his hand upon the lever of death!

The Shadow’s choice was Lester. The man collapsed, a bullet in his heart, before he could put an end to Harry Vincent. A triumphant cry from Kirby Sheldon’s lips as the old man pulled the lever unmolested.

With a weird hiss, sluiceways opened in the side of the grotto, and jets of water gushed through, sweeping over the floor where Sheldon’s victims were now standing. His last effort one of intended destruction, Professor Sheldon tried to close the automatic door behind him as he leaped toward the stone steps.

It was then that he encountered The Shadow. With a mad surge, the professor tried to block the man in black. The Shadow, coming forward, gripped the old man’s body and slung it with the force of a stone from a catapult. With sprawling arms, the old fiend shot headfirst between the closing door and the wall of the corridor. His body, jammed there, blocked the locking of the automatic barrier!

Harry Vincent leaped forward. He pulled open the door. The professor’s body fell inert across the sill. Harry could see The Shadow — he could see the beckoning of the black-gloved hand — he knew that the way was clear.

With a cry to his companions, Harry Vincent led the way. Men and women followed, wading and splashing through the water that had reached their knees. The drifting body of Professor Sheldon floated from their path, and none tried to stop it. Whether the old man was dead or merely stunned, he belonged here in this grotto of doom.

On the steps, Harry aided Darwin and Peale in getting the women to safety. Above the level of the submerging grotto, Harry picked the proper corridor — for far ahead he could see the gleaming light of two eyes that shone from the head of a black, phantom shape.

The escaping party reached the dock in the outer cavern. Harry Vincent was ahead of them. He had arrived in time to hear a whispered voice from the cabin in front of the cockpit, giving him instructions.

The women gasped as they saw the bodies of dead gangsters strewn on the dock and floating in the water. Among them was Beef Norbin, the gang leader. The Shadow had won a quick and certain fight.

THE motors of the mystery boat were throbbing as the party clambered aboard. Peale took charge of the engines at Harry’s order. Slowly the boat followed the channel. It reached total darkness, but there, Harry steered directly ahead as The Shadow had instructed, warning all to lie low.

The rush of cold air told of the low arch. Then the ship moved clear — out into the night air of the bay. Its sides scraped rocks in the little cove; then they were clear, and the motors were purring smoothly as Harry steered to a distant light far across the bay.

People were talking in low, buzzing voices. They did not know who had engineered this rescue. They had not seen The Shadow. In the minds of his companions, Harry Vincent deserved the greatest credit. They thought that he had taken advantage of a suicidal affray among Professor Sheldon’s underlings.

But Harry knew the truth. He knew that The Shadow had been aboard the yacht owned by Anthony Hargreaves. Harry — nor any other living man — did not know that the Shadow had boarded the mystery ship from the water after freeing himself from the machine gun. That had escaped the knowledge of Professor Sheldon and his men — all of whom were now dead.

The last exchange of shots between Sheldon and the yacht had enabled The Shadow to slip into the cabin of the mystery ship. There he had waited until the boat had docked. After that, he had watched from the wall of the subterranean channel.

Harry could guess how The Shadow had engineered the fray. The cockpit of the boat — the half-opened cabin door — both showed sacks of heavy metal and wooden boxes. The gold from the Patagonia! The professor’s papers!

The Shadow had fallen upon the minions of Professor Sheldon the moment that the loading had been completed. The fight had all been in his favor. Only a few had managed to reach the corridor. The Shadow had pursued them, killing Shoyer, and then Lester, last of all, before he had hurled Professor Sheldon to his deserved doom.

Harry’s thoughts were all of what he must tell later on. He realized that he need not mention the name of The Shadow. With Woodruff, he could tell what had occurred at East Point. The others could give the facts regarding their capture.

The boat was approaching a lighted pier. A searchlight suddenly illuminated it. A coast-guard cutter, looking for rum runners, had seen the boat. Cries came from the cutter, as its crew realized that this must be the mystery ship which had baffled all discovery!

The light revealed the presence of women. The coast guards knew that this could not be the pirate crew. Harry was docking the ship now — people were scrambling ashore — all were giving explanations.

Coast guards saw the sacks. They knew that the stolen gold had been recovered. They were listening to blurted stories, before they prepared to examine the contents of the ship. But as the government men clambered into the cabin, Harry gazed askance.

Would they find The Shadow?

No!

The answer came to Harry Vincent as he gazed instinctively toward the bow of the mystery ship. There, in the darkness, Harry’s keen eye caught a momentary glimpse of a form in black. Then the shape was gone.

The Shadow had been riding the prow of the boat. Lying low, he had escaped detection. He had slipped ashore, under the cover of darkness. Listening, Harry Vincent fancied that he heard the grim echoes of a strange, mocking laugh, fading in the distance of the night.

Professor Sheldon’s victims had been saved. The gold from the Patagonia had been recovered. The master fiend and his villainous underlings had gone to their doom. The golden grotto was submerged.

All had been accomplished by the hand of The Shadow.

The Shadow never fails!