Part 9 (2/2)
It sounded logical to the detectives, and to Andy, too, inasmuch as he knew of The Shadow's Xincas. In fact, many things, particularly the fray at the Amazonia, were clearing themselves in Andy's mind. He had struck upon the fact that the Aztecs must have come to New Orleans first; the Xincas later.
There was something else that occurred to Andy. He expressed it to Hedwin, after the detectives had gone.
”About the Xitli cult,” remarked Andy. ”Since it is active again, right here in New Orleans, wouldn't the members meet in that throne room at the museum?”
Professor Hedwin darted a sharp look toward Andy, then gave a withery smile, accompanied by a head-shake.
”I doubt it,” he said. ”You must be careful, Andy” - Hedwin's hand fell on Andy's shoulder - ”or they will accuse you of harboring absurd notions, like myself. Why should clumsy detectives tramp through the throne room which I so carefully arranged? No Aztecs have been reported around the Mayan Museum.”
Nodding his agreement, Andy remarked that he was going out to dinner with Yvonne. He went down to the lobby, where he ran into the detectives. He guessed what was on their minds before they spoke it. ”We'd like you to do a favor for us,” said one. ”Stay with Professor Hedwin, and see what he does. It's for his own good, Mr. Ames. He's a trifle eccentric -”
”If you mean that he didn't like Carland or Dorn,” interrupted Andy, ”I'll agree with you. Carland left our expedition high and dry, and Dorn didn't help us out as we expected.”
”Then you think that the professor -”
”I think he's all right. To prove it, I'll do exactly what you want. I'll go up and chat with him, and sound him out on the whole Xitli business.”
RETURNING to Hedwin's room, Andy told him that he had called Yvonne, but that she was out. He began to talk about Xitli and the throne room. Hedwin was right, in Andy's opinion, about keeping the police away from the place; still, as Andy put it, a visit to the throne room might be a very good idea, later.
”A very good idea,” decided Hedwin, with a nod. ”It might even be that someone is masquerading as Xitli. Look, Andy!” He picked up a small statue of the fire G.o.d from among his curios. ”Here is Xitli, himself. How cunning his features are!”
With an upward sweep, Hedwin drew the statue from his outstretched palm. The thing was hollow, and it left an object behind - a small revolver, which gleamed from Hedwin's hand. As Andy gave an instinctive s.h.i.+ft, Hedwin cackled gleefully. Laying the statuette aside, he pocketed the gun. Then: ”I think I shall call on our friend Salter,” declared Hedwin, ”and learn what he really thinks about Xitli.”
The professor went out, and Andy grabbed for the telephone. He knew that the detectives had left the lobby, hence they wouldn't be there to stop Hedwin. Andy had to call someone, so he chose Yvonne, whose phone number was in his mind. The girl answered Andy's call promptly. In a tense voice, he told her: ”Professor Hedwin just left the hotel. He's going to the museum to talk with Salter. I want you to call Salter and tell him. Then call -”
Before Andy could add ”the police,” a chuckle interrupted. It came from the door of the room, where Hedwin was standing with the revolver. The professor gestured for Andy to drop the receiver on its hook, which Andy did, glad that Hedwin had not heard him mention Yvonne's name.
Then, keeping Andy covered, Hedwin picked an odd-shaped chain from among the Mayan relics in the room. With a deft sweep, he linked Andy's wrists in the primitive handcuffs.
”So you came back to spy on me,” Hedwin clucked. ”Very well; we shall put a stop to it! Your ankles next” - he applied another chain, that bound Andy's legs - ”and, finally, this!”
The final object was a looped thong, with a metal ring through its knot. Hedwin threw the noose over Andy's head and twisted the ring, thus tightening the loop. The thing was much like a garotte, and a few more twists would have choked Andy; but Hedwin was kind enough to stop it just before the strangulation point.
”Breathe carefully,” suggested the professor, ”and slowly. But if you try to shout, what happens will be your own fault. I shall see you later, Andy” - Hedwin's cackle reached a high, gleeful pitch - ”after I have finished what I intend to do.”
Again, Hedwin walked from the room, and soon afterward the telephone began to ring. Andy knew thatYvonne was calling back, but he was forced to listen grimly. At least, Andy decided, Yvonne was safe from harm. She had probably called Salter, and was wondering who should be called next.
Andy was half right.
FROM the hotel where she had been residing since her uncle's death, Yvonne had called Salter, but without an answer. She was calling Andy, to tell him so.
Receiving no reply, Yvonne hung up. Deciding that Andy might have gone to the museum himself, Yvonne went out and called a taxicab. She rode to the Mayan Museum.
It was dusk, and the great pyramid loomed forbiddingly against the last touches of sunset. Yvonne went to the door and found it open; but when she arrived at Salter's office, it was closed. A note on the door stated that the curator would return in fifteen minutes.
Pondering, Yvonne wondered if Salter could still be in the museum. She thought of the exhibit rooms on the top floor.
Walking to the elevators, Yvonne found one open. The car was of the automatic type, and a sudden impulse seized Yvonne. Entering, she pressed the b.u.t.ton to the top floor. Smoothly, the elevator carried her to her destination.
Salter wasn't on the top floor, but the exhibit rooms were still open, with the exception of Xitli's throne room.
Wandering from room to room, Yvonne was gripped with a shuddery feeling. The light was getting dimmer and the statues in the gallery looked like living figures. So did the costumes in the next room, for they were hung from racks. Deciding that the hall was better, Yvonne started through a doorway, then halted in real fright.
Squatty shapes were moving through the hall. They were alive, and very real. From the primitive costumes that they wore, Yvonne identified them as Aztecs, the murderous members of the Xitli cult known to be at large in New Orleans. Frantically, she groped back toward the costumes, expecting to hear padded footsteps follow.
No footsteps came. Evidently the Aztecs were staying in the corridor. Perhaps they were gone, leaving a clear path to the elevator. But Yvonne was afraid to venture out among killers who might recognize her from the night when they had invaded her uncle's apartment and slain him.
A sudden hope struck her.
She had evaded the Aztecs that other night, up until the time she screamed. She might be able to do it again, if she used real stealth. As for recognition, there was a way to avoid it. Among the costumes were primitive dresses worn by Mayan maids, that resembled the very garb of the Aztecs.
Finding one, Yvonne kept deep behind the racks and hurriedly disposed of her modern garb, putting on the Mayan costume, instead. It wasn't a very elaborate outfit. Skirt and tunic formed one piece, and there were slippers shaped like moccasins. Yvonne decided to dispense with the headdress that went with it, because the Aztecs wore none.
With pounding heart, she crept out through the corridor, which had grown darker. A dim glow greeted Yvonne as she pa.s.sed a corner; it was the light from the open elevator. No Aztecs were in sight, but the chance to reach quick refuge made Yvonne forget her stealthy tactics. She started a quick dash for the elevator. Her haste betrayed her. Squatty men popped out from lurking places and overtook her before she could reach her goal. Yvonne held back a scream; knowing that it might be recognized; and her silence proved salvation.
Instead of drawing stone hatchets, the Aztecs merely suppressed her struggles. They bound her, hand and foot, with thong-like cords that they wore as necklaces with their deer-hide costumes. Quite solemnly, the Aztecs carried Yvonne to the door of the throne room and rested her upon the floor.
They began a low-pitched babble, in which Yvonne identified a single word: ”Xitli.” It chilled her more than the coldness of the stone floor for it meant that the rumors concerning Xitli were actual. Someone, Yvonne was certain, must be masquerading as the fire G.o.d.
Murderous captors had spared Yvonne's life, only that her fate might be decided by Xitli, the fiend of flame!
CHAPTER XVII. TRAILS LEAD HOME.
ABOUT the time of Yvonne's capture by the Aztecs, two men were having dinner together in a hotel dining room. One was Eugene Brendle, and the stocky contractor was more talkative than usual. He had found the man he wanted to see: Lamont Cranston.
Brendle was discussing real estate. He had the t.i.tle deeds to Carland's delta land and was going over them in detail, calculating the price per acre and talking about the possibilities of rice production.
As Brendle warmed to the subject, Cranston listened, his features remaining quite immobile. At last, Brendle shook his head and leaned back in his chair.
”It's no use, Cranston,” he said. ”Carland was a promoter, while I am not. He sold me on the idea that this land was worth the fifty thousand that he wanted to borrow; but after I gave him the money, I was no longer sure.
”I've been telling you things that Carland told me. I've been more conservative in my statements than he was, but at that, I've overstepped myself. There is only one way to learn if rice can be grown on this land.
That way is to try it.”
The first semblance of a smile appeared upon Cranston's lips. Brendle was encouraged.
”I know what you have been thinking,” he admitted. ”You suppose that I am trying to dispose of a white elephant - and you are right. But I am not actuated because of my own interests; at least, not entirely. I am thinking of Yvonne Carland.
”She insists upon paying her uncle's debt, and she cannot possibly do it. But she is determined enough to try, and for years to come, she will be thrusting dribs of money upon me. Even worse, Yvonne intends to marry a man as determined as herself: Andrew Ames. He will consider it a debt of honor, too.
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