Part 8 (2/2)

This time, the pause was longer, and Laboutard showed a trace of worry.

”You wish to know the place?” he queried. ”But if I take my men there, it should be enough -”

Xitli's tone came harsh, from the receiver. Hearing it, Aztecs s.h.i.+fted forward. The edges of their hatchets actually grazed Laboutard's neck. There was no more argument from Laboutard.

”I tell you where!” he exclaimed hurriedly. ”We put all the treasure in the old Monseca crypt... Oui, the one that stands in the corner of the little cemetery, but which no one ever use... Very good. I send my men with Jaro, and I bring these men of yours...”

Xitli must have spoken more instructions, for Laboutard gingerly pa.s.sed the telephone receiver to one of the Aztecs. Hearing the voice of Xitli, the Aztec gave a guttural reply. He pointed Laboutard toward the door; but when Laboutard moved in that direction, two Aztecs closed in beside him.

They stopped Laboutard when he reached the hall, where The Shadow, by then, was deep in darkness near the stairway. Laboutard called for Jaro; the lieutenant poked his face from the rear room. He didn'tsee the Aztecs; they were still in the doorway of the side room.

Laboutard ordered Jaro to go to the Monseca crypt and pick up the treasure. Jaro began to sputter something.

”Do what I say!” stormed Laboutard. ”Take it all to the old truck, and leave it. Where it goes later, is my business. But it means more pay for all of us.”

That was good enough for Jaro. He told the men in the rear room to come along.

Meanwhile, the Aztecs were drawing Laboutard back into the side room. They had closed the door when Jaro pa.s.sed. Nor did Jaro and the entire crew encounter The Shadow.

He avoided them by moving a short way up the stairs. As soon as the last of them were gone, The Shadow crossed the hall and reached the side room.

The door came open a trifle. An Aztec peered out, to make sure that Jaro's men had left. The Aztec did not see The Shadow, for the cloaked watcher had edged toward the rear room.

But the moment the Aztec pressed the door tight shut, The Shadow sprang forward. Grabbing the doork.n.o.b, he slashed the door inward and came upon the Aztecs with a sudden laugh of challenge.

At that moment, the stony men were surrounding Laboutard, waiting while one of their number talked to Xitli on the telephone. An order was coming across the wire, one that Laboutard should certainly have understood by this time.

His own men gone, Laboutard, surrounded by Aztecs, was definitely on the spot. The Shadow was actually coming to his rescue!

THE Aztecs were no longer worried about the door. That was why The Shadow's entry came as a surprise, and brought them all away from Laboutard.

Reversing his spin, The Shadow was back into the hall, blazing shots while stone hatchets came flying past him. It was life for Laboutard, if the fellow had shown sense enough to dive for a window.

Instead, Laboutard yanked out a revolver and drove for the hall, shooting vain shots that he hoped would reach The Shadow!

Like whippets, the Aztecs were after him. Those who still had hatchets used them on Laboutard's skull, felling him on the way. The rest were plucking up their weapons from the places where they had lodged.

To make it worse for The Shadow, the door from the yard clattered open, showing a pair of waiting Aztecs, cutting off retreat.

With Laboutard dead, The Shadow had no reason to wait. He made for the outer door in one long dive, disregarding the fact that the two blockers were already lunging toward him, their hatchets swinging.

The lunges became sprawls, even though The Shadow lacked time to use his automatic. With a bound, he was across his flattened foemen, who were writhing on their faces, each with an arrow projecting from the center of his back. The Shadow's Xincas had picked off the murderous men who threatened their chief.

Whirling across the yard, The Shadow avoided other hatchets that were flung from sheds. Again, he owed his life to his bow-and-arrow specialists. Their quivers handy, the Xincas were quick to tw.a.n.g fresh shafts, that downed the hatchet throwers before any could complete a proper hurl. Then, his Xincas with him, The Shadow was away in his car, leaving the field to police who had been attracted by the shooting. He knew that the officers would not encounter any Aztecs. Having finished Laboutard, Xitli's followers would prefer departure, taking their wounded with them.

MEANWHILE, Jaro and his men were well on their way to the Monseca crypt. They had lost no time in getting away from the waterfront, where there were too many police to suit them.

Far from earshot when The Shadow attempted the rescue of Laboutard, Jaro and his mixed crowd had no idea of what had happened in the hide-out.

The Monseca crypt answered the description that Laboutard had given Xitli. It was a mausoleum of a type very common in New Orleans, and it stood in a corner of a small cemetery that was slated for removal.

The Monseca family had built the crypt, but had shortly afterward migrated from New Orleans. Never visited, the empty mausoleum made an excellent place for the storing of secret treasure.

Approaching the crypt, Jaro and his men found it unlocked, which did not entirely surprise them.

Laboutard had been paid for storing the stolen treasure there, and it was never Pierre's policy to double-cross a client.

Even Laboutard's recent dealing with Xitli was not a departure from custom, for Laboutard, by his own system of reasoning, felt that he was the one who had been betrayed in such matters as the murders of Carland and Dorn.

Knowing nothing of Laboutard's game, nor his death, Jaro and his company entered the crypt and began to stack the heavy sacks that they found there. They had been at work only a few minutes, when a guard reported that someone was approaching.

With drawn knives and guns, the invaders waited. As they heard the door swing open, then shut, they used their flashlights.

In the glare stood Graham Talborn.

Obligingly, Jaro hung an electric lantern from the wall, so that Talborn could see the faces of the crowd.

Talborn promptly recognized them, but the exporter did not show his usual affable manner. Instead, he demanded sharply: ”Where is Laboutard?”

”He is coming later,” rejoined Jaro. ”Maybe he is at the truck, waiting until we bring the sacks.”

”Did Laboutard send you here?”

Jaro nodded, in answer to Talborn's question. Eyes narrowing, the exporter looked around the group.

Seeing that Jaro had them quite under control, Talborn addressed the lieutenant.

”When I hired Laboutard,” stated Talborn, ”I had to let him know my game: that I was secretly bringing in treasure from Mexico with the s.h.i.+pments to the Mayan Museum. Later, you men found out the full facts.

It seemed best to tell you, so that you would be careful never to injure me by mistake.”

”That is right,” agreed Jaro.

”So it means,” continued Talborn, ”that you actually worked for me. Any order from Laboutard,regarding this treasure; would have to come from me.”

Again, Jaro nodded.

”But I did not tell Laboutard to bring you here tonight,” a.s.serted Talborn. ”This is his own idea, and it means just one thing. He is trying to double-cross me, although I have paid him in full. If he will do that to me, he will do the same to you!”

The argument bore weight with Jaro. It promised him the opportunity that he had long wanted: to supplant Laboutard as chief of the motley organization. Too long had Laboutard been letting Jaro do the heavy work; the lieutenant had remained loyal, purely because he knew that Laboutard was reliable.

Talborn's words put an end to Jaro's shreds of esteem toward Laboutard.

Naturally, Jaro did not guess that Laboutard had made a deal with Xitli, under stress; that otherwise, Pierre would not have double-crossed his former employer, Talborn. Even had he known it, Jaro would hardly have rejected his present opportunity. Looking among his men, he studied their faces to see how they stood.

<script>