The Man from Scotland Yard

CHAPTER VII. THE RESCUE

To Eric Delka, the events which succeeded The Shadow’s arrival were startling episodes of furious battle. Steve and Bert had turned about at the foot of the steps, their action an instantaneous response to Rigger’s cry.

To Delka’s amazement, he was forgotten. He saw a revolver glimmer in Rigger’s hand; he realized suddenly that Bert and Steve were yanking guns as well. Like their leader; like the thugs along the deck, these two were springing out to deal with the common foe.

Automatics roared the opening of the fray. Delka saw tongued flashes from the cloaked apparition on the deck. He watched The Shadow whirl about and perform a sweeping fadeaway, as crooks fired in return.

Revolvers were barking in staccato unison. Wild men were aiming toward an elusive target. All the while, automatics were tonguing flame. The Shadow had become a living turret, stabbing shots toward every quarter.

Blinking, Delka saw men plopping to the deck. Sprawling figures were an immediate sequel to The Shadow’s swift barrage. Others were pumping bullets viciously; but they lacked the uncanny prowess of the cloaked opponent.

Rooted during those first swift seconds, Delka realized that force of numbers could down that formidable fighter. The Shadow would be doomed, unless aid came. His deceptive tactics had succeeded only because his foemen had been too quick with their first shots.

Rigger Luxley had fired four wild bullets. The chief crook steadied for his next delivery. Then came the aid that The Shadow needed. A gunshot ripped from the cockpit of the autogiro. An unsuspected marksman — companion of The Shadow — had taken steady aim.

Rigger spun about, clipped by that timely shot. The Shadow’s laugh resounded. Crooks wavered as they saw their leader slump. Delka heard a loud shout from the bridge above. He caught the boom of another timely weapon. An aiming crook sprawled. The captain of the Zouave had sided with The Shadow.

That shout was a command. Men came bounding out from crannies. They were crew members who had resented the skipper’s sell-out to Rigger Luxley. They were eager to aid in downing men of crime.

Unarmed, they leaped for spots where crooks lay sprawled. They seized upon ready revolvers that had dropped from loosened hands. Crooks turned to meet these unexpected fighters.

THE sudden turn was fortunate. Rigger had brought more henchmen than those who had been on deck at the start of the swift battle. Reserves were surging up from the companionways. Crooks still outnumbered those who fought them.

But The Shadow had gained the edge. He had swung beyond a hatchway, having cleared away the closest opposition. While crew battled crooks, The Shadow dropped his guns and produced a second brace of automatics. With these new weapons, he thundered destruction into the ranks of new attackers.

The aid in the autogiro was sniping crooks. The captain was adding new shots from the bridge. It was Delka’s turn to enter. The Scotland Yard man saw his opportunity. It lay against the very men whom he preferred to combat: Steve and Bert.

That pair had dropped back when Rigger staggered. Forgetting Delka, they were concentrating on The Shadow’s hatchway, hoping to bag him while he fought the others. Steve and Bert were prone upon the deck, hard targets for The Shadow to uncover.

Fiercely, Delka pounced forward and landed squarely upon Steve’s back. With downward driving fist, he smashed the crook’s head to the deck. One instant more and he would have had the man’s gun. Bert, however, intervened.

Swinging up, the second crook snarled an oath and jabbed his gun at Delka. Too late to get Steve’s weapon, the ex-prisoner made a grab at Bert’s revolver. He caught the thug’s wrist. Bert’s shot went wide. Then Delka and Bert went into a rolling grapple.

It was fast, equal combat, to the tune of roaring guns. The strugglers came half to their feet and staggered to a companionway. Bert twisted free and tried to aim. Delka jammed a punch to the crook’s jaw. Bert toppled; then caught Delka’s neck. Together they wavered, then pitched head-foremost down the companionway.

The fall favored Delka. He was resisting Bert’s attack as they took the unexpected drop. He managed, somehow, to twist himself about as they skidded down the precipitous steps. Bert was beneath when they struck. The skull-crushing fall finished the vicious crook.

Delka rolled jouncingly along the passage. Eric thudded a wall; then came up to his hands and knees.

Dizzy, weakened, he looked for Bert and saw the crook lying motionless. From the deck above, he heard the barking of guns, a sound that seemed strangely far away.

Delka came unsteady to his feet. He stared at an opened door; he saw two rough-clad men come into view. One uttered an excited cry as he observed Delka’s face in the passage light. The other answered with a nod. Together, they grabbed Delka’s arms.

The Scotland Yard man took them for new enemies. Vainly, he tried to use his fists to beat them off.

Weakened by the fall, he found resistance useless. The pair overpowered him and dragged him, limp, along the passage toward the stern of the freighter.

IT was fresh salt air that revived Eric Delka. He had taken his share of beatings tonight; his final lapse into unconsciousness had been through sheer exhaustion. Once again, Delka came into hazy surroundings.

He was in a small boat, chugging under the power of a wheezy motor. Back through the darkness were the distant lights of the Zouave. Faint crackles announced that the battle had not yet ended aboard the freighter. Apparently crooks must have scudded through the ship, followed by vengeful crew members.

Two men were in the boat with Delka. As the Scotland Yard man groaned, one reached forward and roughly clamped his shoulder. The fellow spoke in a gruff but friendly tone.

“You’re all right, matey,” he informed. “We was comin’ up to get you when you spilled down the companionway. Guess you didn’t figure who we was.”

“We’re taking you ashore,” volunteered the second. “Like we promised, when we sent you the bottle. It ain’t far to the Jersey coast. We knows our bearings.”

“We snook up from the engine room,” said the first man, “so’s we could slip you the bottle. We had to go down again. We was there when the fight started. That’s why we couldn’t come no sooner.”

These were the crew members who had promised aid. They were stokers that accounted for the fact that they had been unwatched by Rigger. Delka knew that these loyal men must have overheard talk concerning his capture. They had done their best to rescue him. Nevertheless, he had cause for protest.

“Go back to the Zouave,” he ordered. “We may be needed there, to help defeat the criminals.”

One of the stokers shook his head.

“No use, matey,” he decided. “That fight’s won or lost by this time. Three of us ain’t enough to cut no figure one way nor tother.”

“Besides,” prompted his companion, addressing Delka, “you’re done up, matey. You wouldn’t be no help, no-how. We’re sticking to our bargain. You’re going ashore.”

Delka nodded weakly as he rested back on a gunny sack at the bow of the little motor boat. The lights of the Zouave were gone. The distant bark of guns could be heard no longer. There could be no use in returning.

Yet, as the boat chugged shoreward, Delka could do nothing but remember that fierce fray that he had witnessed. His thoughts concentrated upon that amazing figure of the night, that master battler who had come from nowhere, to overwhelm men of crime.

Dimly, Delka could remember rumors of strange events in London, years before. Of a fight down Limehouse way, in which a cloaked avenger had wiped out a horde of ruffians, to save a squad from Scotland Yard.

He had heard that being mentioned by a name. “The Shadow,” they had called him. As he pieced together those recollections of the past, Delka decided that, once again, he had been treated to a sight of that weird battler’s power.

Eric Delka was sure that he had been rescued by The Shadow. He felt elated at the thought that he was going safe ashore; he felt sure that The Shadow had triumphed in the fray aboard the Zouave.

Events had taken a turn to the Scotland Yard man’s liking; but it was well, perhaps, that Delka’s thoughts were dwelling on the past and not the future.

For Eric Delka, unsuspecting, was going straight toward new danger; into a spot where The Shadow would not be present to aid him against the threat of death.