Part 4 (2/2)

Then, two guns drawn, The Shadow turned to make his own descent, intending to surprise Jaro and his Cajuns at work in the hold below.

It was a bold plan, but a sure one, considering The Shadow's methods. He had trapped crooks before, below decks, and knew that they did not like it when boxed. Maybe some shooting would be necessary, but it would be in The Shadow's favor. His shots would alarm the s.h.i.+p's crew and bring them to take over the prisoners. That would leave The Shadow free to greet Laboutard and the reserves, when they made their delayed arrival.

As The Shadow foresaw it, the surprise would strike Jaro and the Cajuns, and there would be no way for them to reverse the situation.

But there was one factor not in The Shadow's calculations: the chance that Jaro and his men might receive a surprise before The Shadow reached them. Such was to happen, for things were happening below deck without The Shadow's knowledge.

Crouched above boxes which they had rapidly opened, the Cajuns were reaching for heavy burlap sacks that Jaro pointed out, when a stir came from deeper in the hold. Low voices seemed to mutter a chant that was anything but human.

Bounding up from a box, Jaro gave a snarl that showed actual fright, for his superst.i.tious nature was aroused. Then, contemptuously, he flung a light into the depths.

The beam showed a sight that froze the band of Cajuns. They were ready to battle man, beast, or reptile, but not the creatures that came clumping toward them. They were men, yes, those figures from the hold, but a sort that could have come from another world. In fact, they did belong to another period.

They were Aztecs, a dozen of them, lineal descendants of the bronze fighters who had ruled ancient Mexico. Chunky-built, with metallic faces topped by sharp-slanted foreheads, they were clad in dusky garb, the hides of jungle beasts.

For arms, they had stone hatchets, which they raised as they advanced. Then, when Jaro reached for a knife as a suitable weapon for a silent fray, the stony Aztecs lunged.

Jaro sprang away, his knife half drawn. The Cajuns followed their leader, frantically trying to get at weapons of their own. Pursued by the Aztecs, who were charging full force, Jaro and his squad went up through the hatchway at top speed, with an impetus that even a superhuman force could not halt.

The Shadow learned that when he tried to stop them. He greeted Jaro's swarming men with a challenging laugh so startling, coming from darkness, that it would ordinarily have made the superst.i.tious Cajuns falter.

Moreover, he was in among them with his guns, swinging to beat them down into the hatchway. But the terror that pursued the maddened tribe numbed their minds to any menace that might lie ahead.

HOISTED high by the ma.s.s of crazed men who erupted from the hatchway, The Shadow was swept back on the crest of a human tidal wave. A light from the s.h.i.+p's bridge showed darkish faces and gleaming knives.

Though too wild to recognize The Shadow as the fighter who had battled them in the museum, Jaro's men saw him as an obstacle to their path and tried to hew him down.

Flaying with his arms, The Shadow beat off the knife thrusts, but could do no more. The swirl carried him to the far rail of the s.h.i.+p, where he managed to disentangle himself, though slas.h.i.+ng knives threatened to cut his cloak to ribbons. Spinning sideways, The Shadow brought up against a stanchion and landed on his hands and knees.

Jaro was going overboard, and his men were copying his example except for one who had stumbled short, staggered by a gun blow from The Shadow. The luckless Cajun was on his feet as soon as The Shadow, and seeing the cloaked fighter, the fellow came at him. Grappling, they reeled toward the rail,just as the Aztecs reached the deck.

The excitement on the Amazonia had been heard by Laboutard and his men, who were lurking far back in the darkness of a shed. Wondering what had happened to his shock troops, Laboutard started forward with the reserves. But another man had already reached the scene. Andy Ames had just come from the museum and was stepping on board the Amazonia.

Andy saw The Shadow half across the far rail, a man with a knife poised above him. Andy didn't notice that The Shadow had dropped one gun overboard and had caught the foeman's wrist. Andy was still carrying his revolver, and he used it. His shot clipped the Cajun. With a howl, the wounded man went over the rail, carrying The Shadow with him.

His gunshot echoed by a splash, Andy heard another sound that whizzed past his ear. Something landed with a choppy noise in a post just behind him. In the dim light of the deck, Andy spied the thrower, a squatly man who had come from a hatchway. Remembering the night at Cuicuilco, Andy mistook the Aztec for one of The Shadow's Xincas.

Rather than mistakenly battle a friend, Andy turned for the wharf. Stumbling against the post, he found the object that had driven into it: a stone-headed ax. Yanking the weapon from the post, Andy carried it with him. Hearing a snarly shout from the wharf shed, Andy cut away for cover just as guns began to shoot in his general direction.

Then Laboutard and his mixed reserves were surging on board the Amazonia, expecting to find The Shadow milling with Jaro's Cajuns. Instead, they discovered a deserted deck. Like Jaro's crew, The Shadow had gone overboard, and the Aztecs, too, had disappeared.

The strange men from Mexico had sought battle only to keep their presence unknown. Having cleared the deck, they had taken sh.o.r.e leave before the arrival of Laboutard and his reinforcements. So swiftly had they seized their opportunity that even The Shadow, busied with the Cajuns, had failed to see the Aztecs come and go!

CHAPTER IX. TRAIL DELAYED.

COMMOTION broke on the Amazonia as soon as Pierre Laboutard and his men boarded the s.h.i.+p.

Andy's gunshot had wakened members of the sleeping crew, and the volley that Laboutard's followers supplied completely aroused the sailors. But as soon as they poked themselves in sight, Laboutard ordered gunfire that drove the sailors back to cover.

Laboutard ordered half of his men below to complete the robbery that Jaro had begun. They scurried down the hatchway, and the man who remained on deck began exchanging sniping shots with the barricaded sailors.

All the while, Laboutard was fuming. He knew there would be trouble from the sh.o.r.e, and feared that time would prove too short to complete his purpose.

Things worked to Laboutard's advantage. His men were back in no time, bringing the burlap sacks.

Having found the boxes open, they had simply seized the swag. As soon as they arrived, Laboutard ordered a swift trip ash.o.r.e.

The burden carriers hurried ahead, while Laboutard and the gunners fired shots to keep the sailors of the Amazonia in their quarters. Attracted by the gunfire, two policemen had reached the wharf. They saw the stooped figures of the scurrying men who carried the bags of loot. Shouting for them to stop, the officers hurried forward, firing warning shots as they came.

It was a serious gesture, for they were unwittingly putting themselves in the path of Laboutard's gun squad, which was coming from the boat.

From the next wharf, where he had found shelter, Andy Ames saw the danger. Andy held two weapons: his revolver in one hand, the Aztec hatchet in the other.

He hesitated a mere moment, then flung the hatchet out into the river, where it landed with a choppy plunk, its stone head carrying it to the muddy bottom. Waving his revolver, Andy dashed toward the Amazonia, shouting a warning to the officers.

”Look out!” he called. ”They're coming from the s.h.i.+p, a whole mob with guns!”

Andy didn't give the cops time to doubt. He fired at the gangway of the Amazonia, then dropped for the nearest shelter, easily ahead of the return volley that Laboutard's gunners supplied. But Andy's warning wasn't enough.

This was more than a s.h.i.+p-side quarrel, which the cops mistook it to be. Laboutard had just committed piracy in earnest, and intended to chop down any blockers who might hold him responsible for the deed.

His roustabouts were joined by Jaro and the Cajuns, who had swum around the s.h.i.+p like water rats, to come ash.o.r.e. Some were surging en ma.s.se, to overwhelm the two patrolmen, who by this time were rapidly retiring; while others, men with knives, were creeping in to wipe out Andy, who couldn't see them against the black side of the Amazonia.

Out of that ominous situation came the one challenge that could reverse matters: the laugh of The Shadow!

The black-cloaked fighter had not swum around the Amazonia. Instead, he had returned to the deck by way of the anchor chain. He was on the bridge, boldly placing himself where all could see him, confident that Laboutard's close-range fighters could not put up an accurate fire from the comparatively distant wharf.

Having regained the automatic that he had dropped on deck, The Shadow was proving that long range was his forte. His shots were either nicking Laboutard's followers or ricocheting from the concrete at their feet. With his second gun, The Shadow added side shots toward the knifers who were creeping toward Andy.

They were too close to the Amazonia to be picked off, but the shots were dangerously close. In scuffling to the wharf edge under the steams.h.i.+p's side, they gave themselves away, and Andy began to blast, glad that his experience at Cuicuilco had taught him to always carry extra ammunition for his revolver.

Laboutard's whole tribe took the quickest course that offered flight. It was every man for himself, with escape the only object, as they scattered everywhere. Laboutard himself was on the run, and Jaro with him, but when they reached the depths of the shed, the pirate chief and his lieutenants shouted for the tribe to rally.

By then it was too late.

The Shadow's timely demonstration had already brought a compact crew to action. The sailors on the Amazonia were taking over the vessel's deck, armed with a variety of weapons. They heard TheShadow's laugh, saw the pointing stabs of his flas.h.i.+ng guns. They took to the land as readily as the Cajuns had gone for the water.

Crippled members of Laboutard's band tried to stop that surge, and the wharf became a general melee, with everything favoring the sailors from the Amazonia. Andy and the officers were coming in to aid, forgetful that Laboutard might rally his remaining men back from the waterfront.

IT was The Shadow who foresaw that complication. Down from the bridge, over the gangway, he was speeding across the wharf, a black-clad avenger whose streaking figure was actually invisible under the gloom of the sheltering shed.

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