DISCUSSION of the eliminated Apaches occupied a full twenty minutes. Then Brilliard came to the matter of future plans. He spoke of the mob that awaited Lence’s call. Then he referred to Larribez’s water-front crew:
“Link Ruckert and his gorillas will be instructed beforehand,” explained Brilliard. “You, Larribez, will take direct charge of your own henchmen. We shall discuss final plans here, tomorrow afternoon.
“Lence and I have been invited to the Gaudrin mansion. We shall be inside — I, as the guest of Mademoiselle Alicia; Lence as a friend of young Luke Gaudrin. You will be necessary outside. You must not be observed between now and then.”
“It is plain,” nodded Larribez. “Tomorrow, I shall—”
The door swung open. It was Tabac. Closing the barrier, the Apache broke loose with a flood of jargon that only Brilliard understood. The artist’s face clouded.
“There has been a brawl at the Cafe Internationale,” he declared, “centering in the upstairs room. Some have been killed. Others have gone to hospitals, wounded and unconscious. Your men, Larribez!”
The mustached swindler burst loose with a string of Spanish expletives. Amid his oaths were references to Dombar. Tabac heard the name and made a gesture to indicate that the former mutineer was dead.
“Buenos!” exclaimed Larribez. “It is good. Very good! He alone could have said that I, Jose Larribez, was the one who had those men.”
“But we need your henchmen!” cried Brilliard.
“You shall have them,” returned Larribez. “Bah! Do you think I am helpless? Who do you think is here in New Orleans?”
Brilliard shook his head.
“Juan Quita, of the Porra,” declared Larribez. “And Sancho Trupion, another Porrista. Since the revolution, los porristas — ah, they are everywhere. It is easy that I should find one, here in this Latin Quarter.”
“You need more than one—”
“One or two. They have the ways to find the men that I have had. Along the front here, by the water. They will bring those that I need. Come, senores. Let us find a place to eat. Bah! That food on the ship, el Tarrano!”
Brilliard dismissed Tabac. While he doffed his smock, he heard Larribez explain to Lence that he would call on Quita and Trupion after dining. Brilliard joined the pair; the trio descended from the studio.
The courtyard lay quiet after their departure. Not a whisper stirred its stillness. There was no sign of the mysterious presence that had visited here before.
Since the arrival of Jose Larribez, The Shadow had found other tasks than those of keeping shrouded vigil upon the lieutenants of Cyro. His role of stealth had ended with his departure from the suite in the Hotel Bontezan.
CHAPTER XIX
MEN MAKE MOVES
“CORAL specimens, Marr.”
“Worth their weight in gold, Danforth.”
Danforth Gaudrin chuckled at Marr’s reply. The two were in Gaudrin’s study. On the floor in the center of the room were nine square boxes that had been brought here from the Nautilus.
It was late the next afternoon. Already lights glowed in this study while the two men surveyed the heavy-crated treasure. Two others were with them. One was a pinch-faced, white-haired old man: Professor Pearson Babcock. The other was a squatty, rock-faced fellow in blue uniform: Captain Peters Emory.
“You mentioned weight, Marr,” observed Gaudrin. “Judging from what Captain Emory has told us, I should place the value of the treasure well in excess of one million.”
“But less than two million?”
“Yes. As owner of the Nautilus, I shall claim one half. That is the agreement. The other portion will be divided among Captain Emory and the crew.”
“They want me to take one third of our share,” put in Emory, gruffly. “I was willing to do with a quarter of it. They wouldn’t hear it. Well, they’ll all be rich, mighty rich to their way of life. They deserve it, faithful fellows, after serving with me for so many years.”
“They have all left the Nautilus?” inquired Marr.
“Yes,” replied Emory. “They are through with the sea. So am I. As the new owner, Mr. Marr, you will have to obtain a new crew. That should not be difficult here in New Orleans.”
“No one is aboard the yacht?” asked Gaudrin.
“No one,” replied Emory. “Nothing of value remains on board. We brought Professor Babcock’s coral in with these boxes. The boxes of coral are down in the cellar.”
“But is it wise?” asked Marr. “Having the crew ashore tonight?”
“Why not?” demanded Emory, gruffly. “Those chaps are not roustabouts. Picked men, all of them. They have homes here in New Orleans. Professor Babcock can testify to their faithfulness.”
“I can indeed,” put in the professor, in a crackly voice. He looked like an owl, blinking through his big spectacles. “There was no quibbling about the raising of this treasure. They did not even want a counting of the gold. It was poured into these boxes, so that it could be brought intact to Mr. Gaudrin.”
“They trust you, Mr. Gaudrin,” added Emory, “just as they trust me. When the diver put the old treasure boxes in the net, the crew heaved them aboard like they were weighing an anchor.”
“And I, as new owner, am to lose such a crew!” exclaimed Dunwood Marr.
“You’ll do better with a new crew,” assured Emory. “My men are old salts — past their prime. You will do better with younger blood.”
“Unless I search for sunken treasure.”
“In that case, call on me.”
DANFORTH GAUDRIN, reaching in his desk, brought out papers and passed them to Dunwood Marr. Seriously, Gaudrin added a statement.
“You may expect my check for twenty thousand dollars,” he declared. “The Nautilus is yours, Marr, as my gift—”
“Not at all,” broke in Marr. “The size of the treasure, by your estimate, will not warrant it.”
“I insist—”
“Wait a moment.” Marr saw that Gaudrin was determined. “Let us make a new arrangement, Danforth. To begin with, only part of the treasure belongs to you.”
“One half is mine.”
“And that should amount to something over half a million?”
“So I estimate. We shall know tonight.”
“Suppose then,” suggested Marr, “that you give me one per cent of your share. That amount can be determined easily when we weigh the treasure—”
“But it will be scarcely more than five thousand dollars!”
“Perhaps. But don’t forget our bargain. By rights, I am entitled to nothing. One per cent, Gaudrin, but let me take my pick of rare, old Spanish coins.”
“I promised you twenty thousand dollars—”
“And I refuse it. I want none of your treasure, Danforth. I am making my new acceptance only to please you. One per cent in coin. That is all that I shall be willing to accept.”
“Very well, Marr.”
Danforth Gaudrin was reluctant in his tone. Marr smiled and shook his head.
“You are overgenerous, Danforth,” he remarked.
“That’s what I have said, Mr. Marr,” put in Captain Emory. “Even as sole owner of the Nautilus, he was willing to do with only a third of the treasure when we found it; I talked him out of that, Mr. Marr.”
“As for me,” remarked Professor Babcock, “I have been forced to accept a promised refund of the money which I paid to charter the yacht for my coral cruise.”
Danforth Gaudrin smiled as he arose from his desk. He walked about the room and tried the door that led to the passage toward the front parlor. It was locked. He went to another door at the far side of the room.
That door, strangely, had been half an inch ajar. It closed mysteriously as Danforth Gaudrin approached. The elderly man did not observe the motion. He opened the door and revealed a darkened, porchlike room. It was on the east side of the house. Fading sunlight had allowed a heavy gloom to settle here. Gaudrin looked across to dim windows. The others peered from behind him.