The Golden Quest

CHAPTER XVII. THE PATH TO SAFETY

ONCE again, hunted men had been deceived by The Shadow’s strategy. Harry Vincent, as well as Rex Brodford and Vic Marquette, had given a wrong significance to the shots that had echoed from behind them.

They had taken to temporary flight after crippling two of Trebold’s mob. But they would have been fools to have stayed where they were. Dashing downward in this corridor, they reached a low level before they stopped.

Shots from behind had spurred them onward until they reached an upward slope. Then, amid silence, they held council regarding the next step. First they discussed the wild outburst that they had heard.

“A parcel of fools,” was Vic Marquette’s comment. “They saw us duck. Yet they stayed there, shooting after us. Wasting bullets on nothing.”

“Maybe they have plenty of ammunition,” put in Harry. “If they have, it wasn’t wasted. It drove us deeper.”

“So deep we’re going up,” chimed in Rex.

“That’s right,” remarked Vic. “Say — maybe we’re in for a lucky break after all. When a passage goes up, it may go out!”

“Maybe,” grunted Harry. “My idea, though, would be to creep back. Surprise those guys the way we did before. Clip one or two of them and make them fire away.”

“They’ll be expecting that the next time we pull it,” objected Rex. “Look here, Harry: If we go on while it’s quiet, we’ll have time to come back. I think those chaps were trying to scare us.”

“Sure,” agreed Harry, “so we’d dive in deeper.”

“No,” commented Vic, “that doesn’t hold. They think that we’re coming back. They’re waiting. We’ve got time to take a trip along this corridor. Even if it is blocked it may give us a stronghold.”

“Perhaps another side passage,” reminded Rex.

“All right,” consented Harry. “Let’s go ahead. Make it fast.”

They traveled up a way; then risked a light. The corridor continued steadily upward. New hopes came to the trapped men as they persisted in their journey. At last Vic Marquette’s torch showed a blank wall.

“This ends it,” decided Harry.

“Let’s take a look,” suggested Rex.

They continued toward the wall. When they arrived there, Vic Marquette grunted a discovery. The bearded man placed his hand upon a smooth surface. He picked out a vertical crack.

“Looks like a slab,” remarked Vic. “Sort of a door, even if it is smooth stone. Let’s see if we can wedge it.”

They tried. The surface yielded. It moved away as Harry pressed. The motion was slight. Harry shoved his shoulder hard and Rex aided with a shove. The slab moved on a hinge. Then it struck a barrier.

“Space enough to wedge through,” said Harry. “Only, there’s something on the other side.”

“Don’t try to squeeze through,” warned Vic. “Get this slab open all the way. Lean on it. Hit it hard.”

In unison, the trio threw themselves against the doorlike barrier. They budged it a foot. Again they struck; this time, there was a terrific clatter on the other side. The slab swung wide.

HARRY, by the opening, went plunging headlong. He sprawled upon a stone floor. Toppling upon him came a stack of logs. One piece of wood struck glancingly on Harry’s head and laid him groggy.

Vic Marquette turned on his light. His first thought was for Harry. Rex Brodford also forgot the surroundings as he aided Vic to bring Harry to his feet. Pieces of wood lay in a loose stack. They sat Harry down upon the logs.

“I’m all right,” grunted Harry to Rex. “Say — what did I get into, anyway?”

Vic Marquette was spreading the beam of his light. The Secret Service man spoke in puzzled answer.

“Some kind of a cellar,” he exclaimed. “Say this is a funny ending for a mine shaft! This slab we shoved was in back of a stack of cordwood. That’s what we knocked over. We’d have done better to have squeezed through and wiggled out in back of it.”

“Cordwood?” queried Rex. He looked up, then stepped out into the range of Vic’s light. He uttered a startled exclamation as he saw other objects beyond the scattered logs.

“Say, Harry!” blurted Rex. “Do you know where we are? We’re—”

Rex never finished the sentence. At that instant, a light flashed on. The whole cellar was revealed by illumination from the ceiling. Harry Vincent, looking about, knew where he was without Rex Brodford’s explanation.

The three fugitives had crashed their way into Cortland Laspar’s cellar! The passage that they had followed had dipped below the level of Lake Chalice. It had traveled through the rock beneath the sand bar and up to this house upon the point.

SOMEONE had heard the clatter. Someone upstairs. That was why the light had been turned on. The sheathed door had opened at the head of the stairs.

Harry reached for his gun as he heard footsteps. Rex and Vic followed suit.

A gray-haired man came into view, peering cautiously. Rex uttered a cry as he recognized Cortland Laspar. He sprang forward to announce his identity to the lumber magnate.

Cortland Laspar came further down as he heard Rex’s voice. He was carrying a rifle that he had brought from his living room rack; he dropped the muzzle of the weapon as he recognized Rex Brodford.

“What — how” — Laspar paused. Spluttering in astonishment as he saw Harry also coming forward — “where in the world have you come from?”

Before Rex could reply, Laspar saw Vic Marquette. Sight of the bearded man added to his amazement.

Laspar’s face was ludicrous as the others viewed it. The lumber magnate stared at the scattered cordwood. He leaned forward over an old dusty table in an effort to see what lay beyond.

“We’ve found a passage into your cellar,” explained Rex, hastily. “We’ll tell you all about it later. Right now, we’ve got to guard ourselves. We’re being followed.”

“Let’s get that slab shut,” suggested Harry, turning to Vic Marquette. “Come on — we can block it up.”

“With cordwood?” queried the fake hermit.

“An opening in the wall!” put in Laspar. “Why — why — it looks like a door! Was that the cordwood that I heard crash?”

“Yes,” acknowledged Rex. “Listen, Harry” — he turned to The Shadow’s agent — “don’t mind about that slab. It won’t hold unless we barricade it. But that door at the top of the stairs will hold back the mob that’s after us.”

“That’s right,” accorded Harry. He and Vic had already shoved the slab shut. “Come on, Vic. We’re safe enough. Let’s get upstairs.”

Laspar was eyeing the bearded man. He turned to Rex and delivered a puzzled question.

“Is that Old Absalom?” he inquired. “Has the man really exhibited signs of sanity?”

“It’s Old Absalom, all right,” chuckled Rex, “and it isn’t. We’ve got a lot to tell you, Mr. Laspar. But the first thing I want to know is this: Do you have a telephone to the lumber camp?”

“Yes.” Laspar was moving up the stairs with Rex. “Do you want to communicate with someone there?”

“I want you to bring men over here,” returned Rex. “There’s trouble, plenty of it, and we’ll need all the help we can get! Go ahead and put in the call. I’ll lock the cellar door.”

Laspar nodded. He reached the top of the stairs and turned right, to the room where the telephone was kept. As soon as Harry and Vic had reached the hallway, Rex closed the heavy door and locked it. He motioned the others into the living room.

“We’re getting help from the lumber camp,” Rex told his comrades. “Laspar is putting the call in right now. He’ll be with us shortly. Then we can give him the details. We hit a lucky break tonight.

“No wonder someone went to all the trouble of stacking up those logs and piling that furniture before Laspar took this lodge. They wanted to keep him out of the cellar; and they did.

“We’ve found the old Quest mine. We’ve spotted a phony connection with the Chalice mine. This lucky passage was the oddest break of all. But it’s left us so we can turn the tables on Jubal and the rest.”

Rex concluded. Cortland Laspar entered. The lumber magnate caught the last words that Rex spoke. His eyes showed immediate interest. With quizzical gaze, Cortland Laspar turned to Rex Brodford to gain an explanation of the amazing events that had brought the three fugitives to this house of refuge.