The Shadow Double-Novel Pulp Reprints #45: Terror Island & City of Ghosts s-109

by Maxwell Grant

  "If you'd been out on the beach, chief," he said, "maybe you'd have been fooled, too. We couldn't figure how far out the ship was. Just lights - that's all. Looked like a hundred-to-one shot on it being the Dalmatia."

  "That part is excusable," decided Elger. "In fact, everything was all right up to the time of the attack. But that was the big mistake. You started too much trouble."

  "I didn't start it, chief. The outfit thought it was coast guards, when the sailor came running up. Nicky yanked a knife before I could stop him. He stabbed the sailor."

  "And after that?"

  "The rest of the mob began to fire. At the boat. But those birds were sharpshooters. They dropped Nicky. They plugged our searchlight. They clipped Hungry when we started to beat it. We brought Nicky and Hungry along with us."

  "Seriously injured?"

  Ruff scowled as he heard Elger's question.

  "Dead," informed the mob-leader. "Both of 'em. That cuts the crew down to four. I left 'em over in the cabin of the boat."

  "Anchored in the swamp?"

  "Sure. Back of the old ruins where the slave houses used to be. I came in alone through the big passage. Don't worry, chief. Nobody's going to spot that boat of ours."

  "There is no occasion to worry," declared Elger. "The people from the lifeboat found my house; so I welcomed them. Golga and Royne brought the sailor's body into the construction house."

  "Want us to snatch it out of there?" inquired Ruff. "There won't be any evidence if we do."

  "No evidence," snorted Elger, "except the testimony of five persons who saw the sailor die. We shall keep the body where it is, Ruff; later, I shall inform the law of what occurred on the beach. My position is a perfect one. I am a respectable citizen who had chosen the life of a recluse.

  "No one knows that my look-out house has a passage that leads to these caverns, under the ruins of the leveled mansion. Nor do they know that these caverns are also connected with the ruins of the old slave buildings."

  "It's a great set-up, chief."

  "It is. But its worth depends upon a complete separation between myself and your band. Should the law come here, I can state that questionable characters have been about. In doing so, I can divert search from your actual hiding place.

  "As an emergency measure, you and your men could abandon the boat and hide out in these caverns. But it is best to create the impression that nothing is wrong on Timour Isle. Unfortunately, your crew injured that situation tonight."

  Ruff grunted, then put a suggestion.

  "We bumped off the sailor," he growled. "Why not rub out the crowd? Then there'd be nobody left to talk."

  "That would be unwise," returned Elger, dryly. "At least, for the present. The yacht managed to steam out to sea. If it comes to safety, those aboard will institute a search for those who came ashore. The captain will give the exact location of this isle. If the castaways are found alive, my position will be strengthened.

  "Should the Maldah flounder, as I hope it will, the news will reach us. We can then dispose of our unwelcome guests. The world will believe that they went down with the yacht. In either event, we shall have several days to wait. The hurricane has not abated."

  As Elger paused, a ticking sound came from a box at the rear of the cavern. It was a telegraph sounder. Elger read the clicks, then turned to Ruff, whose blank look showed that he was unacquainted with telegraph codes.

  "From the shack on the mainland," stated Elger. "Tully says he has picked up a wireless from the Dalmatia. The ship is putting into Charleston. It will probably stay there until the hurricane is over."

  Approaching the box, Elger busied himself with a telegraph key. He notified Tully that he had received the message. That done, the bald-headed crook turned about with a complacent smile.

  "Tully will keep us posted," he stated. "Since the Dalmatia is bound for Tampico, Mexico, it will unload no freight in Charleston. It will not come under inspection. The Dalmatia will bring us our last cargo. We shall hold our trophies here, then ship them ashore after construction begins at my house. Loaded boxes will go to the mainland on the construction barges."

  "It may be tough, chief," interposed Ruff, "unloading all this swag. Dalavan got into trouble down in Miami."

  "That was an exceptional case," retorted Elger. "Dalavan is safe in New York. Once he arrives here, he and I can arrange to dispose of treasures wholesale. Dalavan can line up plenty of other men like himself."

  "Dalavan is a smooth guy, chief."

  Elger sat thoughtful; suddenly he chuckled.

  "Since the Dalmatia is in Charleston," he remarked, "I shall have Dalavan board the tramp steamer there and accompany the final shipment when it comes ashore at Timour Isle."

  With that decision, Elger began to puff his meerschaum, eyeing Ruff Turney. A crafty look came into Elger's gaze; The Shadow could see the glint of the supercrook's eyes. Elger had decided that he had talked enough. He waved his hand as a dismissal to Ruff Turney. As Ruff arose to depart, Elger added final words:

  "Lay low with the crew, Ruff. Report here as usual. I shall contact you personally, or through Golga or Royne. I shall hold my guests until after the Dalmatia has unloaded. Meanwhile, Tully will learn the fate of the Maldah. The lives of my guests will depend upon what happens to the yacht."

  AS Ruff departed, Purvis Elger indulged in a smug smile. The master crook was pleased. In this cavern, surrounded by millions of dollars' worth of stolen, imported wealth, Elger felt an absolute security. He was unperturbed because his house had gained unwelcome guests. Elger was confident that he could handle any opposition.

  During his conversation with Ruff, Elger had heard the hardened crew leader mention trouble that Dalavan had encountered in Miami. Apparently that news had been flashed through from Tully some time ago; and Elger considered it of little consequence, even though it had involved The Shadow. Evidently, Dalavan had reported a perfect get-away, stating that his identity was unknown to The Shadow.

  Yet The Shadow had learned the name of George Dalavan; he had gained it here, in the very headquarters of the master crook whom Dalavan served. Purvis Elger, with all his confidence, would have been overwhelmed with astoundment had he realized that he, himself, was under the keen observation of The Shadow.

  It would be a while, however, before Elger would guess that The Shadow was present on Timour Isle. Elger had decided to play a waiting game. Learning that fact, The Shadow had chosen to adopt a similar policy.

  There was much to learn, here on Timour Isle. There would be loose threads to gather, before the final stroke. The more that Elger planned, the better it would please The Shadow.

  CHAPTER VIII. THE SHADOW ACTS

  NONE of Purvis Elger's detailed methods had escaped The Shadow. While he remained on vigil, the master sleuth summarized new facts that he had learned; and added them to those that he had previously gained.

  For some time, Europe had been stirred by robberies in England and the continent. Rare paintings had been filched from museums, priceless treasures stolen from palaces. Relics such as archeological trophies and suits of armor had disappeared. Many other items of immense value were gone.

  Those items could not have been fenced in Europe but it was possible to dispose of them in America, to private collectors who would say nothing. It was also a simple matter to ship them to South America and the Orient, for disposal there; but that could only be done from the United States.

  The real game had been to get the treasures to America. The Shadow had known that when he had heard of the Lamballe tiara, mentioned by chance while he was in Havana. He had immediately surmised that James Tolwig, the intended purchaser, would be approached by a member of the thieving, smuggling ring. George Dalavan had been such an agent.

  How had the goods come to America?

  The Shadow had suspected the answer; at last he had found it. Tramp steamers, putting out from European ports, had carried the stolen goods in their cargoes. The European authorities had counted on
all ships being inspected at receiving ports; hence they had not supposed that the stolen treasures would be aboard such vessels.

  Elger had managed the shipments by having the ships pass this isolated section of the Georgia coast. There, they had unloaded the swag; Ruff Turney and his crew had received it and brought each shipment ashore in their small boat. One more cargo would complete the job; it would come by the Dalmatia.

  ANOTHER point impressed The Shadow. Long ago, Elger must have done some treasure hunting of his own. On Timour Isle, he had uncovered the ruins of the old manor house; he had discovered the secret vaults and passages. The caverns and their underground routes dated from colonial days, when they had been used in case of pirate raids.

  Naturally, the manor house had been the focal point, with passages leading to the slave quarters and the look-out house. Elger had simply changed the arrangement. He kept the look-out as his own abode; he had Ruff and the receiving crew back in the swamp, near the site of the vanished slave quarters.

  The caverns were doubly protected; either Elger or Ruff could come to them. Far apart, there seemed no connection between the two groups of inhabitants on Timour Isle.

  Elger had already fenced some swag through Dalavan, as a "feeler" for the future. That meant a contact; and Elger had one. A telegraph cable led through the swamp to the mainland. Near some town was Tully, the telegrapher, ready to relay messages anywhere. Tully also had a receiving station for wireless messages; thus he had learned about the Dalmatia and would gain facts regarding the Maldah.

  While The Shadow watched Elger, the portly crook finished his reverie. He carefully dumped the ashes from his meerschaum and placed the pipe in his pocket. That done, Elger turned to the telegraph key and tapped a message with his pudgy hand. The Shadow read the clicks, which were sent in Morse.

  Elger gave the names of the persons who had arrived on Timour Isle. He stated that they would remain as his guests for the present. He instructed Tully to gain information regarding the yacht Maldah. Elger added orders that concerned George Dalavan.

  The taps of the key told Tully to send a letter to New York by the night mail, instructing Dalavan to come to Timour Isle. Elger forwarded the suggestion that Dalavan travel to Charleston and board the Dalmatia there. He added, however, that such procedure would be optional. Should Dalavan prefer, he could come to the isle by the usual route.

  Elger did not specify details regarding the "usual route." It probably meant that Dalavan had formerly come to some town in Georgia, perhaps the one where Tully was located, and from there had reached Timour Isle by a small boat.

  Through such expeditions, Dalavan had doubtlessly received the Lamballe tiara and other valuable items, which he had taken along to peddle to close-mouthed curio collectors. It was evident to The Shadow that Dalavan had been confident that he had left no trail from Miami; otherwise, the murderer would have headed for the safety of Timour Isle. Unquestionably, Dalavan had discounted the importance of the sheet of paper that he had been forced to leave at James Tolwig's.

  In suggesting that Dalavan come by the Dalmatia, Elger was making allowance for the hurricane. There would be a chance that the usual route would be closed for some days after the storm, as Georgia roads are frequently flooded after heavy rains.

  His orders completed, Elger arose and turned directly toward the cavern where The Shadow stood. As he stepped forward, the crook did not spy the tall form of the onlooker.

  The Shadow faded away before Elger arrived. He chose a darkened spot behind the suits of armor; there, The Shadow waited while Elger went through the cavern and chose the passage back to the look-out house.

  DARKNESS followed Elger's departure, for the crook took the lantern with him. Soon, The Shadow's flashlight carved the blackness. Entering the central cavern, The Shadow focused the gleam upon the telegraph key.

  A low laugh whispered through the musty air. Gloved fingers pressed the telegraph key. It clicked; then came a pause. Again, The Shadow tapped. There was a response from the other end. The Shadow began to send a message. His taps were a perfect copy of Elger's leisurely style.

  "Add in letter to Dalavan," ordered The Shadow. "Obtain information regarding preferred stock Argentum Silver Mines. Learn if any is available at nineteen.

  "Also inquire about Eastern Zinc, Incorporated. Selling at twelve and one quarter. Make inquiries through Rutledge Mann, investment broker, Badger Building, New York.

  "Ask for information on Consolidated Securities; send immediate report on same. Tell Dalavan to approach Mann as a possible client who has learned of these investments."

  The Shadow waited while Tully's reply ticked back. The man on the mainland was repeating the message. He had taken it as a bona-fide order from Elger.

  The tiny flashlight cut a line of illumination across the central vault as The Shadow made his way toward the exit that Ruff had taken. Passing into the next cavern, the investigator discovered another store of valuables.

  Here were other chests. The Shadow lifted one and judged from its weight that it contained metal, probably gold or silver plate. Upon a box in the corner of the room stood a cluster of bronze and silver statuettes. Against another wall was an upright mummy case.

  Apparently, Purvis Elger had used many connections with continental thieves in order to acquire this hoard of valuables. Recalling the rogue's conversation with Ruff, The Shadow estimated that at least a dozen shipments must have been taken ashore at Timour Isle.

  A DOOR led from this cavern. It was locked, to close the path that Ruff had taken. The flashlight's gleam focused upon a keyhole. A gloved hand moved forward, carrying a blackened metal pick. The Shadow probed the lock.

  The door yielded. The Shadow stepped through and locked it from the other side. His flashlight glimmered to show a passage wider than the one that led to Elger's house. This had evidently been used - years ago - for the removal of valuables to the safety of the swamp.

  This passage was also longer than the other. When The Shadow reached the end of it, he found himself in a low cellar. His light showed a flight of steps in the corner. Moving upward, The Shadow encountered a heavy trapdoor. He raised it and emerged into the night.

  Winds whistled fiercely through the trees that sheltered this spot. Moist, matted underbrush settled soggily in place as The Shadow lowered the trap. He had come from one of the cellars in the old slave quarters. The entrance was hidden by clustered jungle weeds that rested on it.

  A glimmer of the flashlight showed a tangle of cypress roots that formed a higher level. In darkness, The Shadow stepped upward, then paused abruptly. From close by, he heard a squdgy sound; indication of a footstep in swampy ground. The Shadow waited; the next token was a scrape against a cypress root. The Shadow wheeled; shot both hands into the darkness.

  The move was timely. A bulky figure hurtled upon The Shadow. A snarl came from the attacker's lips as The Shadow grappled. It was not Ruff Turney's tone. This fighter was an underling, like "Nicky" and "Hungry," the two who had been slain on the beach. The fellow had merely chanced upon The Shadow.

  Luck served the attacker. Twisting away, The Shadow backed against a cypress; lost his footing and came to one knee. Ham-like hands clutched for his throat; The Shadow gave a gasp that brought a pleased snarl from his antagonist. The thug choked harder, ignoring the clutch of The Shadow's hands upon his arms.

  That was all The Shadow needed. His grip tightened; he shot his body upward like a trip hammer. His shoulders hoisted backward; the attacker was propelled headlong by the sudden jujitsu thrust.

  It came so forcefully that the thug lost his finger grip upon The Shadow's throat. A surprised snarl sounded as the crook took his six-foot dive; there was a crackling of underbrush, followed by a dull crash some distance below.

  Crawling down beside the cypress roots, The Shadow used his flashlight to discover an opening in the jungle-like growth; The gleam displayed a pit, eight feet deep; at the bottom lay a twisted figure, back upward, but with gog
gle-eyed face turned full about.

  The thug had plunged through a third layer of overgrowth into a forgotten cellar. His head had struck the stone floor; his neck had been broken in the crash. It was plain that his death had been instant.

  THE SHADOW extinguished his light. He took to the marshy ground; changed course to seek a higher level. Picking a direction through vines and brambles, he reached a spot where the howling winds increased; and the roar of surf came with crashing tumult.

  The Shadow had gained the beach, above the lower inlet. He took a course beneath the fringing trees. Shrouded beneath the overhanging branches of oaks, the weird prowler moved toward the look-out house. Reaching the building, The Shadow skirted the tabby walls to arrive at a side window of the living room.

  There, he found outside bars, set in a frame held by heavy screws. The Shadow produced a small combination tool that served as screwdriver. He loosened the framework and removed it.

  The Shadow had anticipated this easy entry. He knew that Elger had no need for barred windows; these frames were a mere pretense, to build up Elger's claim that he was a recluse who feared prowlers.

  The Shadow opened the clamped window sash by means of a thin metal wedge. Entering the house, he replaced the barred frame; then clamped the window. He blended with the blackness of the living room.

  Soon, motion ceased within the silent house. Only the banshee-like wail of the hurricane remained. Howling winds seemed angered as they twisted among mighty trees that thwarted their wrath. Those winds alone carried the secret of The Shadow's presence on Timour Isle.

  Tomorrow, Ruff Turney would find his crew another man short. Discovery of the body would not indicate a fray. It would look as though the dead thug had stumbled over the cypress roots in the darkness, to accidentally plunge into the pit.

  One man more or less did not concern The Shadow. Though he was stranded on this lonely isle, like the other castaways, he had accomplished much. He had listened in on Elger's schemes; he had seen the wealth that the master crook had hidden; he had learned the identity of George Dalavan.