Part 15 (1/2)

In the strong room, Captain Jund and Dave Callard had been motionless during the fight in the hall.

Somehow they knew that their cloaked rescuer possessed the ability to fight lone combat.

They had steadily held Courtney Dolver at bay, with Lessing helpless also. But the sound of gunfire from the deck above had given cause for worry. Dave had suggested going up; Jund had given him the nod.

As Dave turned to leave the strong room, the unexpected happened.

Lessing sprang forward upon Jund. The captain met the attack with a pointblank shot. Lessing kept on, though crippled, bowling down Jund. Across the struggling forms sprang Dolver.

Dave wheeled to grapple with the archcrook. Dolver staggered him with a surprising punch that landed squarely on Dave's jaw. Jund rolled free from Lessing, who rolled groaning to the floor. The captain fired at Dolver; he was too late to clip the murderer.

Dave followed suit from the corner where Dolver had thrust him. His shots failed; Dolver had pa.s.sed the turn in the pa.s.sage.

Kicking a revolver in the dark, Dolver scooped it up and kept on. He gained the stairway and was halfway up in it when Dave and Jund arrived to fire wild shots along the pa.s.sage. Again, their bullets failed to reach the supercrook. Dolver gained the deck.

The Shadow, from his vantage spot was watching down the river, where tiny lights were twinkling from close beside the water. He knew the meaning of those lights; they told of the approaching police boats.

Two miles away, it would be four minutes before they arrived.

The Shadow was holding out for that arrival; the change of circ.u.mstances, however, was destined to end his purpose. Courtney Dolver, coming out into the temporary silence of the deck, was here to command a devastating onslaught.

A sharp cry in the night to lurking skulkers, who needed only this order to turn them into demons. Upon that cry came the glare of flashlights and the bark of guns. Their numbers increased by new reserves, thirty murderous men were surging out from cover at the command of an insidious chief.

CHAPTER XXII. THE TRIUMPH.

AGAIN, in reply came The Shadow's laugh. Rising in the glare of concentrated lights, a spectral form rose suddenly to view. Into the ranks of evil attackers ripped bullets from formidable automatics. Each .45 was opening a fierce barrage.

Revolvers answered. Hasty shots zipped past that swaying figure whose mighty guns belched death.

Never had evil foemen met with such resistance.

As his left hand gun clicked empty, The Shadow hurled it through the air and s.n.a.t.c.hed another from his cloak. A split-second later, his right hand flung its automatic and produced another weapon.

Again those devastating shots were withering the ranks of the riffraff. Crooks were sprawling all about, firing hopelessly, spreading along the deck. Hurling away telltale lights, they dived for cover, scattered by this cannonade that surpa.s.sed all belief.

It was The Shadow's only chance. To drive back the demoniac foemen with a taste of lead that would leave them crippled. Had he been dealing with a dozen, The Shadow would have gained his purpose; for never before had he raked attacking ranks with such superhuman fury.

But tonight, The Shadow dealt with twice one dozen; and half a dozen more. When his last shot roared its final blast, nearly a score of ruffians still remained, lying along the rail, scattered about the deck. To these cohorts came Courtney Dolver's new shout for the attack.

Revolvers popped, their flashes were puny compared with that swift barrage that The Shadow's guns had thundered. Jund and Dave had reached the deck; they were taking pot-shots in the dark. So were those two crew members who had lain silent ever since The Shadow's attack had saved them.

TO The Shadow, there was but one more chance. Dropping behind a little parapet, he tugged at the bonds of captured seamen. Wriggling free, yanking away their gags; these huskies were anxious to get into the fray. But they were weaponless; all they could hope to do would be to fight bare-handed besideThe Shadow.

Flashlights burned. Crooks knew that The Shadow's ammunition was exhausted. Glimmering rays revealed Jund, Dave and the armed seamen. The four dived for the interior of the s.h.i.+p. Half a dozen thugs started in pursuit.

To the others came Courtney Dolver's shrill order for the a.s.sault upon The Shadow's pitiful stronghold.

Dolver knew who was quartered there. He wanted to eliminate this one opponent whose might was equal to a score of ordinary foemen.

Far down the river were the approaching lights of the police boats, still more than a mile away. The Shadow saw them as he peered quickly from his cover; then his slouch hat vanished as flashlights focused on the tiny parapet.

His laugh rose in final, fearless challenge, a defiance to those about the deck. Though death might be The Shadow's lot, this cause might still be won by the law.

Shouting riffraff leaped forward, firing as they came, driving in to slaughter The Shadow and his weaponless companions. But as they opened with their scattered shots, a sudden burst of revolvers sounded from behind them. As ruffians paused, their snarling pals wheeled on the center of the deck.

A row of yellow faces was bobbing over the rail from the spot marked by the hanging ladder. Fists beneath them were clutching revolvers. Fingers were pressing triggers, delivering quick shots into the backs of the advancing thugs.

As oaths spat from tire lips of ruffians, wiry Chinamen came vaulting past the rail to crouch upon the deck. The Celestials were still firing while others bobbed into sight behind them.

Dave Callard had not come here alone. He had left Leng Doy and the Cantonese in cars up on the heights, believing that it would be best to interview Captain Jund alone.

But Leng Doy had deemed it wise to follow. He and his faithful followers had reached the railroad tracks when the firing had commenced aboard the Xerxes.

As half a dozen Chinamen plopped to the deck and spread to draw diverting fire, Leng Doy, himself, leaped into view. Half a second later, a bulky, stalwart American swung over the rail from the hanging ladder. Dropping beside the spreading Chinese, Detective Sergeant Markham brought his police revolver into play.

A NEW battle was on; though riffraff held the odds, their attack was broken. Most of them swung to meet these unexpected invaders. Only half a dozen still hesitated, still ready to drive on toward The Shadow and the released seamen. It was Dolver again who supplied them with initiative.

Flouris.h.i.+ng his revolver, the arch-crook reached the hesitating group and waved them toward the parapet. Forgetting Markham and the Chinese, Dolver's new minions swung to obedience, turning flashlights and revolvers toward the silent parapet.

Their action came too late. Over that low barrier hurtled The Shadow. A creature of mighty blackness, he sprang upon the turning crooks. An automatic muzzle in each fist, he swung sledgehammer strokes, driving the heavy gun handles toward the ducking skulls of frantic thugs.

Hard on The Shadow's surge came Jessup and the rescued seamen. Anxious for fight, they leaped for aiming crooks, rolling the startled ruffians to the deck, knocking aside aiming guns, while The Shadow staggered sidewise in fierce grapple with a vicious pair of killers. A black fist shot out and clutched a revolver just as its owner aimed it. With a fierce twist, The Shadow wrested it from the would-be murderer's grasp. He had hurled his automatics away when this pair had piled upon him. Now he used one man's own gun to slug the fellow for a knock-out.