“That doorway,” he remarked, “is the entrance of a closet. You will find a bag there — a suitable bag to take your gems—”
As Casper shot a glance toward the corner, Uhler pressed a button beneath the edge of the table. A buzzing sound; the door shot sidewise into the wall. Standing with leveled rifles were a pair of Uhler’s servants. Rodney Casper, covered by the guns, had no chance to reach for his revolver.
A gleeful rumble came from Hampton Uhler’s lips. The big man opened a table drawer and found a huge revolver of his own. Caught between the muzzles of three guns, Casper stood helpless.
The tables had turned. Hampton Uhler had saved the Spanish gems for himself. It was his turn to make terms. The fierce look on his mustached face showed his terms would differ from those put forth by Rodney Casper.
CHAPTER XX. THE CROOK REVEALED
“A SMART crook, eh?” Uhler chuckled in his deep basso. “Twenty gypsies waiting for you? Well — they’ll be waiting somewhere else before they hear you signal them. Outside of a penitentiary — that’s where they’ll have to wait. You’ll be inside the walls, you crook!”
“I think not,” remarked Rodney Casper, in an easy tone. “There are reasons, Uhler, why I believe my terms will still hold.”
“Reasons?”
“Yes. Reasons that I did not care to mention. One, in particular, has occurred to me within the past few moments.”
“What reason is it?” demanded Uhler.
“This room,” remarked Casper,” is quite unusual. Two men with rifles — ready at your call. Their promptness, Uhler, shows that you have worked this trick before. A lurking suspicion has gained credence in my mind.”
“What do you mean?”
“The death of Mandrez.” Turning from Uhler, the young man eyed the rifle-bearing servants. “His body was found in the Hudson River. It might have been carried far, Uhler, before it was dropped overboard. Say from Theswick to New York—”
“You are accusing me—”
“Of murder! Yes. I see it now. You and your servants — a band of cutthroats! You never paid a cent to Mandrez, Uhler. You are a liar — a rogue — a murderer—”
“And you,” snarled Uhler, “are a thief. Who will believe your story, Casper? I shall tell the law that you came here to steal. They will not listen to your story — to your talk of Spanish gems. Your past record will be uncovered It will show you to be the crook that I say you are.”
“My past record?” There was sarcasm in Casper’s laugh. “That, Uhler, is the second reason that I have not mentioned. It is that record that will force you to my terms. My past is the reason why my story will be believed.”
A laugh; then Casper added:
“My name — Rodney Casper — is an alias. You will find no smirch upon it. Nor will my true name give you trace of crime. Rodrigro Calaspara—”
“Rodrigro Calaspara!” Uhler repeated the name as though he recalled having heard it before.
“Rodrigro Calaspara,” asserted Casper. “That is my true name. It is the name, also, of the present Duke of Almanza.
“I am the duke.” Casper’s eyes were firm as they stared toward Uhler. “Mandrez was my servant. He betrayed me — even though I offered him fifty thousand dollars to regain the wealth that was rightfully mine.
“When I, the Duke of Almanza, tell my story, people will believe it. I can prove my identity. You thought me an Englishman,” Casper smiled. “My mother was English; I lived long in that country. But my father was Spanish. He, before me, was the Duke of Almanza. I hold that title now. The title may mean nothing; but the wealth of the Almanzas is rightfully my own!”
THE ringing words had gained their effect upon Hampton Uhler. The big man was astonished. Rodney Casper, now revealed as the Duke of Almanza, saw the chance to press home his claim.
“I had hoped to conceal my identity, Uhler,” he declared. “We in Spain are proud of our titles, even though they may be lost. Now that I have revealed the facts, my bargain stands. Count out your money; give me my gems.
“Mandrez was a traitor who deserved to die. We will forget what happened to him. Moreover, Uhler” — Casper paused to make this point emphatic — “I can save you from great danger. Mobsmen are ready to invade this house. Your men are needed to repel them. I can aid you with my gypsies.
“I have sent word to New York. A detective will be here. Let him find the shattered mob; let him find your strongroom unbroken. Your men — my gypsies — all will be given credit. You will still hold the wealth that is rightfully yours. I shall have my family gems — fairly reclaimed from you by purchase.”
Rodney Casper paused. He gazed in friendly manner toward Hampton Uhler. Only animosity was the return. The face of the big millionaire had become the countenance of a fiend.
“You fool!” Uhler rumbled the words and followed with a snorting laugh. “Do you think that I will let you live? You told the truth when you said that I killed Mandrez. I gained your gems without the payment of a single cent. I shall keep them — and your money also.
“You will go the route that Mandrez took. Into the river, from my motor boat; but your body will be more heavily weighted. No one will ever find you as a floating corpse.
“Mobsmen — gypsies — you have warned us of both. We need no aid. We will start to meet them within the next sixty seconds. Between now and then; within one brief minute, you will find death. The truth that you have told will never be repeated—”
The door swung open. Into the room came Shirley Laustin. Before Uhler could raise his gun toward Rodney Casper, the girl had flung herself between the murderous millionaire and the helpless duke.
Protecting Casper’s body with her own, Shirley cried out her defiant denunciation. Uhler stood with half-raised gun; his servants were unable to shoot at Casper without hitting the girl who blocked their waiting bullets.
“I know all,” cried Shirley. “I have been listening. I have heard. I knew the truth this afternoon. I learned it from the gypsy woman. If you try to murder Rodney, you must kill me first, you—”
“Shoot them both!” thundered Uhler, swinging to his servants. “Kill the two of them—”
As rifles came to shoulders, a weird laugh rang from the door of the room. Its sinister tones were like an echo from the beyond. Strident, sibilant mirth, it stopped the aiming servants short.
Like Uhler, the evil menials swung to face a black-cloaked form that loomed like a specter from the night. As Uhler roared the order to dispose of this new foeman, the servants took swift aim toward The Shadow.
ONE rifle crackled with a hasty shot. That was all. As a whiny bullet buffeted the wall beside The Shadow’s sinister form, the burst of automatics answered. Uhler’s henchmen sprawled upon the floor.
The Shadow’s aim had clipped the murderer’s minions.
Hampton Uhler, as his henchmen turned to meet The Shadow, swung back to perform the work that had been so suddenly delayed. The muzzle of his big revolver came cannonlike toward Shirley Laustin.
The girl went sprawling to the floor as Rodney Casper flung her clear. A sweep of his left arm had hurled Shirley from the path of danger; his right hand, acting swiftly, brought forth the .38 that it had pocketed.
A bullet from Uhler’s booming revolver skimmed the young man’s arm. Rodney Casper, in motion, fired wide, in return. A second quick shot, following from Uhler’s gun, found Casper’s shoulder. Staggering, the young man dropped.
These shots were bursting while The Shadow fought the rifle-bearing servants. Uhler, swinging to the door, aimed for The Shadow’s form. An automatic boomed. Uhler’s gun arm dropped. The big man staggered, his revolver slipping from his grasp.