Tower of Death

CHAPTER XIX ONE MORE GONE

STOKES CORVIN was right in his assumption that Quarley had admitted Lamont Cranston. The old servant had found the millionaire standing by the front door. He had beckoned Cranston into the turret; in turn, Cranston had picked up a bag with one hand while he waved to his chauffeur with the other.

Within the turret, Quarley, true to orders, had bolted the outer door. He had passed into the house, to bolt the inner door behind him, he had paid no more attention to the visitor’s actions.

Hence Quarley had not seen the glint in Lamont Cranston’s eyes as those optics had lowered to gaze at the Egyptian inscription upon the floor of the turret room. The aftermath came when Quarley had closed the door. A soft laugh echoed from Cranston’s thin lips. His tall form stepped toward the stone wall while his right hand raised the bag that he was carrying.

Out came a mass of folded cloth. It swept down over Cranston’s shoulders. A slouch hat settled on the visitor’s head. As the bag dropped to the floor, a pair of automatics showed in long-fingered hands. The weapons disappeared beneath the cloak.

Reaching into a fold of his black garment, Lamont Cranston, now The Shadow, began to draw forth a pair of black gloves. All the while, his keen eyes were upon the floor, while his cloaked shoulder pressed against the rough hewn stone that made the circular inner wall of the tower.

A muffled, warning click sounded from beneath the floor. The gloves dropped instantly into the folds of the cloak as The Shadow’s bare hands shot upward to grip projecting stones. The keen eyes watched the floor.

The tiled surface began to open downward. Each of its four quarter-circles dropped inward at the center.

Like the pieces of a mammoth pie, a star-trap on a huge scale, the hinged sections fell points downward to reveal a blackened abyss!

The Shadow’s suitcase dropped. While the black-garbed form clung safely to the wall, the bag plunged down into the chasm. Long moments followed until a faint splash marked its destination — a watery pit a full hundred feet below!

The Shadow was moving upward. His hands and feet found easy holds upon the projecting stones. A grim, whispered laugh sounded in the turret as The Shadow’s eyes, still peering downward, saw the four sections of the trap swing upward and click into place.

Once again, the tiled floor appeared solid. The X lines that divided its circles into quadrants were the closed edges of the perfect-fitting trap.

THE fate of three men was explained. No one, standing near the center of that floor, could have escaped the plunge which The Shadow had so cunningly avoided.

The opening and the closing of the death trap had been a matter of seconds. The Shadow was already a dozen feet up the wall. Still climbing he laughed again as his eyes, peering downward, saw what followed.

The floor, apparent solid, shifted a few inches downward. Smoothly, it slid away beneath the wall on one side of the turret. As it moved, a second floor came into view from the other side.

A duplicate, tiled surface took the place of the first and stopped; then pressed upward into its solid position.

The death trap of Montgard was explained. The reason for the steps up to the inner passage could be answered by the action of this amazing mechanism. The library on one side; the dining room on the other. Both had raised floors.

Beneath the heavy flooring of the other rooms, these tiled surfaces responded to the action of a silent mechanism. The true floor of the turret had been beneath the dining room. Now that it had shifted back into place, the false floor, with its death trap, had slid beneath the library.

The upward and downward leverage enabled the passing floors to pass the stone bottom of the turret. The death trap had been in waiting; its work done, it had been shifted out of sight to be replaced by a solid tiled floor!

No amount of tapping could have revealed the secret. The death pit, covered by the true floor, was beneath a solid structure. This was the ingenious invention of dead Windrop Raleigh. It explained the deaths of his brothers and his cousin. Of late, three other men had been dropped to the grave in which others had perished long ago!

The Shadow’s climb was ended. He had reached the top of the circular tower. His form made a blackened mass against the inner structure of the turret. It edged toward the wall. It disappeared from view. Mysteriously, The Shadow had rendered himself totally invisible!

WITHIN Montgard, Jarvis Raleigh was coming along the center passage toward the door that led to the turret.

Quarley was with him. The master of Montgard stood upon his step while he watched Quarley advance and withdraw the bolts. Stokes Corvin came boldly along the passage from the library. He paused to watch.

Quarley’s face was expressionless. The servant, to all appearances, was about to admit an ordinary visitor. Quarley seemed unperturbed by events that had occurred in the past.

Jarvis Raleigh’s face wore a peculiar smile. Odd in all his actions, the master of Montgard might have considered that facial expression to be a welcome to his guest, Lamont Cranston.

Stokes Corvin was watching anxiously. The young man’s mind was dwelling now on what had happened in the past. Three times had that door opened to reveal no one. Corvin was gazing, tensely, as though he dreaded the unexpected.

The door swung back. Quarley stared blankly. He made no comment. With one accord, Jarvis Raleigh and Stokes Corvin stepped up behind him. The three men gazed toward the outer door with its triple bolts; then stared about the turret.

Once more, mystery had pervaded the circular entry to the house of Montgard. From this spot where three men had vanished separately, a fourth had gone from view. Lamont Cranston had disappeared.

Quarley turned to look at Jarvis Raleigh and Stokes Corvin. The two men were gazing at each other with fixed expressions. Crime had struck once too often. This time the climax was due.

The Shadow, he who had rendered himself invisible, was here to witness the results that were to follow. Three men, all sure that Lamont Cranston had met with foul play, were ready with their challenges!