The Shadow's Justice s-28 Page 15
Grimly, they climbed over piles of rocks and reached the nearest car. Harry reached forward to fire. The burst of a revolver drove him back. Hub Rowley and Farland Tracy had chosen the same purpose.
New shots sounded amid the wreckage. Faces appeared above the car. Harry and Carter scrambled back to the pit, the only place from which they could return the fire. High up, near the ceiling of the shaft, the enemy had the protection of the upturned car that had headed the death train.
THE advantage was with the plotting villains. Their angle enabled them to fire down into the edge of the pit Harry and Carter crouched low, unable to return the shots. Hub Rowley, snarling, had crawled to one side, to gain a better shot.
A light shone from beside the battered train. Hub turned, and his gold teeth glimmered in an evil grin. He raised his revolver to fire at the menace which he knew was there. An automatic roared its greeting.
Hub Rowley swayed crazily. His loathsome smile became a sickly grimace. His revolver twirled as it fell from his fingers. His body lost its balance and plunged to the ground.
Farland Tracy saw the approaching light. With a fiendish cry, the lawyer backed from the upturned car and sought the refuge of the corridor, where Headley’s body lay half-covered with broken ore.
Firing intermittent shots, the crooked lawyer sought to prevent the approach of the dreaded being who had deprived him of his allies. His effort failed. He could not thwart The Shadow.
Backing toward the wall of the short passage, Tracy half-raised his arms as a token of surrender. He held the revolver pointing upward. The Shadow did not fire when he saw the gesture.
But Farland Tracy’s action was a ruse. He suddenly lowered his hand to fire a quick shot. His treacherous deed received a prompt penalty. The Shadow’s automatic spoke before Tracy could shoot. The bullet struck the lowering arm, as token of The Shadow’s power. The offending hand dropped the gun.
Farland Tracy, justly crippled for his foul attempt, blurted a cry of pain and staggered backward. He was ignorant of the fact that the short corridor ended in a precipitous shaft. His back never reached the wall that it sought.
The lawyer lost his footing on the brink of the pit. With a wild, screaming snarl, he threw his good arm outward, but in vain. His body toppled backward, and plunged to the jagged bottom of the hole, more than thirty feet below.
No further cry came from the blackened shaft. Farland Tracy, like the others, had gone to a deserved doom. The last fight was ended. The Shadow was the conqueror.
A long, weird laugh shivered through the gloomy corridors. It returned, a cry of ghoulish echoes. That laugh was mirthless. The Shadow’s triumph was given as a solemn knell to crime. Justice had won in the last fight!
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE SETTLEMENT.
MORNING had dawned. A trio of solemn men were beside the cabin in the clearing. The sunlight of another day made this place seem strangely far from the gloomy shaft of the forgotten mine.
“Ready?”
Harry Vincent, standing, put the question to Carter Boswick, who was beside him. Carter nodded. Both turned to Drew Westling, who was seated on a metal box, his face pale, and his shoulder bulging from bandages that had been packed beneath his coat.
“Come on,” said Harry, with a grin. “Time to be moving, young fellow. Remove yourself from those millions. We have to take them with us.”’
Drew Westling complied. Harry and Carter lifted the heavy box and carried it between them, while Drew followed unsteadily.
It was a long trudge, with frequent stops, before they reached the coupe. Drew was more tired than the others. They helped him into the car, and packed the chest in the back.
“All I can say,” remarked Harry, as he mopped his brow, “is that I appreciate your father’s foresight in packing away paper currency and securities in preference to gold.”
“It helped out a lot.” responded Carter, as they entered the car. “The big job was cracking open the slab. It wasn’t so much for the two of us—Drew had gotten along pretty far when we arrived.”
They discussed the subject as they rolled along. There had been two hours work at the pit in the mine after The Shadow’s fight had ended. There, continuing sturdily despite the ordeal they had undergone, Harry and Carter had unearthed the coffer, while Drew Westling had lain asleep from complete exhaustion.
They had taken Drew to the cabin first; then they had returned to the shaft of death to bring the box of millions. Both Harry and Carter had been pleased because Drew was groggy when they took him from the mine. The scenes where the secret entrance joined the shaft were not pleasant to remember.
The metal box had proven, indeed, to be a treasure chest. There was no clew to its placement in the mine. Whether Houston Boswick had taken it there himself—old though he was—or had relied upon trusted helpers, was a matter of speculation.
It was also impossible to determine how long the wealth had been hidden. Two years seemed the limit, judging by some of the documents. Long-term bonds had view with government certificates of high denomination.
Among the mass of wealth, Harry and Carter had discovered a few stocks that were apparently worthless. In their thorough inspection at the cabin, they had found stock certificates showing complete ownership of the Golden Glow Mine—and this had proven to be the mine in which the treasure had been hidden.
AS they rode along toward the Wisconsin border, Drew Westling explained his dealings with Hub Rowley. Harry and Carter laughed when Drew spoke of the I O Us which the dead big shot had held.
“Let some one try to collect now,” declared Carter grimly. “Those are out now, Drew.”
“But if some one does—”
“I’ll take care of them,” laughed Carter. “Don’t worry, Drew. You can put that income of yours away in the bank. You’re due to your share of this harvest.”
A moment of silence; then Carter spoke to Harry.
“And for you, old fellow—”
Harry stopped him with a gesture.
“Forget it, Carter,” he said. “I was working under orders. I’m out of the division.”
“But the—the person who sent you to help me. Perhaps you can arrange with him.”
“Whatever he wishes, he can call for. But you may not hear from him. He does not expect return for what he gives.”
There was a cryptic meaning in Harry’s statement. Carter Boswick smiled seriously as he recalled last night’s events. Then, The Shadow had given— but had avoided all return. He had delivered messengers of lead, and had loosed a thunderbolt of steel. The results had been dire to fiends of crime.
What had become of The Shadow?
Carter Boswick did not know, and be realized that Harry Vincent shared his ignorance. They had both heard the final cry of triumph. But after its sinister echoes, no further sound had come.
Carter had expressed a fear for their mysterious protector. Harry had answered it with a knowing smile. The Shadow triumphant was a living Shadow!
The old mine was again forgotten. Within its sordid corridors, deep silence lay. The bodies of dead men, if ever found, would be taken as the reason for the closing of the mine—years before last night’s event. The shattered wreckage of the death train would appear as evidence of an accident that had been buried to avoid an inquest.
As they reached the Michigan border, Carter Boswick reached into his pocket and drew forth the only documents that he had removed from the chest of wealth. These were the stock certificates of the Golden Glow Mine.
Methodically, Carter tore the papers into tiny fragments. He let them trickle in batches from the window, where a rising breeze swirled and scattered them far apart.
Harry Vincent, smiling, approved the action. Let the forgotten mine remain forgotten. The only records of its existence would appear in those secret books which none would ever find—the hidden archives of The Shadow.
For to The Shadow belonged the triumph. His hidden presence, haunting the innermost recesses
of the discovered shaft, had distributed rescue and destruction simultaneously—each apportioned to the ones who rightfully deserved it.
The menace that had threatened Carter Boswick’s heritage was gone forever. Vile schemes had ended—and the schemers had gone with them.
The Shadow had prevailed, and justice ruled!
THE END
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Document ID: a16b2542-8c0e-49e0-a19f-e4bd235fc668
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Document creation date: 24.5.2012
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Maxwell Grant
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