The Isle of Doubt

CHAPTER XVIII. OTHER VISITORS

“WHAT’S that?”

The question came from Zach Telvin. Crouched beneath a tree near the lower end of the island, the escaped convict was listening to a vague sound from the river. The noise became more evident.

“It’s a motor boat,” declared Possum Quill. “Lay easy, Zach. If anybody’s snooping around this island, Lefty will spot them up by the house.”

“Listen Possum.” Zach spoke seriously in the darkness. “That motor just started, down below the island. I don’t like it.”

“Crawl down to the bank then, and look things over if you want to.”

“That’s what I’m going to do,” Zach replied.

Zach pushed his way through a thickness of saplings, leaving Possum chuckling at his companion’s trepidation. The sound of the motor was more apparent. Possum could place it. The boat was coming up the main channel of the Mississippi, swinging wide of the island, according to the sound.

The chugging retained its intensity. Then it began to die away as the boat followed the river up beyond the island. Possum heard Zach pushing through the small trees. He spoke in a low voice, and heard the convict’s growl.

“Satisfied?” questioned Possum. “The motor boat never stopped, did it?”

“Not here,” returned Zach, “but I’m leery of it just the same.”

“Why?”

“I’ll tell you why. That boat was drifting down the river, Possum. It wasn’t going down the main stream, either. When the motor started — as near as I can figure — the boat was over toward the shore that’s close to us.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’ll tell you what it means.” Possum’s voice was tense. “I’ve got a hunch, Zach. I know where that boat came from. I know what it was doing around this island.”

“It probably came from the plantation up the river.”

“Maybe it started from there, but it stopped on the way. That boat was at the old steamship out there in the swamp — that’s where it was!”

It was Possum’s turn to show excitement. The smart crook grabbed his companion’s arm.

“Are you sure of it, Zach?” he queried.

“You bet I’m sure,” returned Zach. “If the boat had slid down the main river, it wouldn’t have been in by this shore, would it? I’m telling you, Possum, somebody’s on our trail. Like as not, there’s a couple of bimbos out on that old wreck—”

“We’ll find out about it,” interposed Possum with a determined growl. “Come along, Zach. We’ll see what Lefty’s doing.”

The crooks used a flashlight intermittently as they beat their way toward the old house. A responding gleam came like a signal. New flickers brought Lefty to the others.

“Nothin’ doin’ at the house,” the gangster began. “But I’ll lay there all night—”

“We’re not worrying about the house now,” retorted Possum. “Did you hear a motor boat go up the river?”

“Sure,” said Lefty. “It sounded like it was headin’ for that old plantation.”

“Did you hear it come downstream?” queried Zach.

“No” replied Lefty.

“Get started,” ordered Possum. “We’re going to get our own boat.”

THE crooks lost no time in starting their investigation. They reached the spot where their boat was hidden, pushed the skiff into the river, and Possum swung down below the swamp.

They were cautious as they worked up the cut-off until they neared the River Queen. Possum used an oar to push the skiff up to the derelict. Cautiously, the crooks came over the side.

The trio had visited the wreck before. They had gone through all portions of the steamboat. Possum, who remembered all the passages, led the way, with Zach and Lefty following and moving into side corridors among the staterooms.

“We’ll get down into that room where the engines are,” whispered Possum. “That’s the spot to work from. It looks like there’s no one here, but we can’t be sure.” The three arrived at the appointed place. Possum flickered a flashlight about the rusted boilers. He turned the glow toward the muck below the catwalk. He flashed his torch toward the lower side of the ship.

“Possum!” Zach spoke quickly, as his sharp eyes made a discovery. “Look out for that old door — there in the mud.”

“What about it?” growled Possum, turning his light on the designated spot. “It’s banked in mud.”

“Some one’s been at it,” asserted Zach.

A gruff exclamation came from Possum. What Zach had said was true. The old door was not entirely closed. Harvey Wendell had failed to completely shut it.

“Get hold of it, Lefty,” snarled Possum. “I’ve got the door covered. If anybody has slid in there, I’ll plug him. But you won’t find nothing but turtles in that mud.”

“And snakes maybe,” warned Zach. “Water moccasins—”

“Shut up!” growled Possum, as Lefty hesitated. “Get busy there! Shove it open!” Lefty obeyed. He threw his shoulders against the edge of the old door. The barrier slid open. A sharp cry came from Possum as his flashlight revealed the crevice in the rock. Zach echoed the exclamation.

“Possum!” exclaimed the convicted bank robber. “That may be Birch Bizzup’s place—”

“Yeah?” queried Possum. “Well, I hope it’s not. Some guy’s been here ahead of us.”

“Maybe he’s still in there.”

“We’ll find out.”

Ordering Lefty to remain, and commanding Zach to follow, Possum pushed his way through the crack in the rocks. With his flashlight lowered to the floor of the water-trickled passage, the crook led the way into the cavern.

This pair of visitors proceeded with more caution than Harvey Wendell and Harry Vincent had used. As they neared the upgrade of the large cavern, Possum was ready to open an attack upon any person who might be lying in wait. When they reached the final cave, Possum grunted and swept the light about the chamber. Zach, at his elbow, uttered words of relief.

“Nobody here,” he said.

“Nobody,” returned Possum. “Nobody and nothing.”

“Say, Possum, I’ll bet this is the spot that Birch picked—”

“You think it is? You’re picking a sure bet, Zach.”

“Then the swag must be here!”

“Yeah? Guess again.”

“You don’t think that some bird got here ahead of us?”

“Listen, Zach. We went over the boat before, but we didn’t spot anything funny about that busted door. We spotted it tonight, though. Some guy spotted it ahead of us. He grabbed the gravy.”

“The guy in the motor boat!”

“Right!”

ZACH could see the scowl on Possum’s face. The convict uttered an oath. He realized that Possum’s words must be true. The swag stowed away by Birch Bizzup had been taken from beneath the noses of the three wise crooks!

“Lefty said the motor boat was heading toward the plantation,” growled Possum. “Lefty may be right. That’s where we’re going, Zach!”

The crooks turned and started through the passage back to the River Queen. They arrived at the boiler room. Lefty reported that there had been no occurrence during their absence.

Neither Possum nor Zach offered return comment. Possum, as leader, nudged Lefty forward. With one accord the three crooks hurried to the spot where they had left the skiff. They pushed off from the side of the River Queen.

As they headed up the cut-off, Possum began to outline his plans. The others listened, their only comments being rough grunts of approval. They had left the cover of the island. Coming into the open, they were no longer lurkers.

Men of grim determination, dangerous criminals to whom murder was a pastime, these three were bound upon an errand of desperate crime. The swag was gone; they were out to get it.

Harvey Wendell and Harry Vincent had left the River Queen in safety. These crooks had departed from the derelict unmolested. Another had gone from the wreck during the interim. That other was The Shadow.

While the skiff was traveling up the river, The Shadow was making another departure. His big sedan was moving from the old clearing, where he had left it. The rubber boat was packed. The Shadow’s laugh was uttered softly in the darkness as the mysterious driver turned his car along the dirt road toward the main highway.

Was The Shadow aware that a new menace had arisen? Or had he decided that his presence was no longer needed?

Only The Shadow knew, and his keen brain was dwelling upon strange theories at that particular time!