Cliff Marsland was in the light of Sinker Hargun’s torch. Brodie Brodan was ahead. The gang leader swung suddenly; he whisked out a revolver. At the same instant the muzzle of Bozo’s gun jabbed Cliff from behind.
“Put ‘em up, you rat!” snarled Brodie. “Keep ‘em up and come along with us. We’re going to put you on the sweetest spot you ever saw.”
Cliff’s arms raised mechanically. The Shadow’s agent had fallen into a perfect trap. Brodie Brodan’s flashlight came on; Sinker Hargun let the panel drop. With a contemptuous laugh, Brodie Brodan ordered Bozo Griffin to bring the prisoner along.
The gang leader had trapped the man he suspected as The Shadow’s agent. Cliff Marsland, a helpless prisoner, was marked for death when he reached the crime crypt!
CHAPTER XVIII. DEATH AWAITS
“WHO’VE you got there?”
The question came to Brodie Brodan’s ears as Cliff Marsland was shoved through the opening of the crime crypt. The man who asked it was Fingers Keefel. The safecracker had opened the barrier in response to Brodie’s signal.
“A double-crosser,” jeered Brodie, as he glowered at Cliff Marsland. “A rat that’s working for The Shadow.”
“Yeah?” Fingers matched Brodie’s growl. “Well, he’ll get his as soon as the word is given. What you going to do? Wait for Duke Larrin?”
“Sure. Maybe we can pump this guy first. Say — this crypt is going to mean a lot to us. The first job we’ve got ahead is to give The Shadow the bump he’s been waiting for. This is the place to work it from.”
“And starting with one of his stools is the best way to get at him,” derided Fingers, in reply.
“You said it. Shove him over in the corner, Bozo. You frisk him, Fritz.”
Brodie’s henchmen obeyed. The gang leader nudged his thumb in their direction as they forced Cliff to a seated position against the wall.
“Here’s two birds that’ll count,” he asserted. “Bozo Griffin and Fritz Fursch. They’re in on the lay. I’ve got another guy outside — Sinker Hargun — and his mob. They’re the boys that gabbed the gravy tonight. They’ll be good workers for the de luxe mob that Duke told me to bring up. None of those bum gorillas of mine will be in this new outfit.”
Brodie paused. He was staring past Fingers Keefel to a huge object that stood in front of the farther door. It was the mummy case of Senwosri. The painted face and its golden inlay showed dimly in the low light of the crypt.
“Old Nebuchadnezzar himself,” exclaimed Brodie, with a grin. “Say — the boys did a neat job lugging that down here. Where’s the box they put it in?”
“They carried that back to the storeroom,” explained Fingers. “Duke Larrin was down here. He had them stand it up. He’s waiting until everybody’s here — then he’ll knock it open.”
Brodie nodded.
THE mummy case was encircled with the broad straps that had been put about it in the museum. These kept the case from coming open. The gangsters had delivered the case intact.
“Where’s Croaker Mannick?” questioned Brodie, turning to Fingers Keefel.
“Not here yet,” responded the safecracker. “He slid away like I did, after we raided Brisbane Calbot’s place. Say — I’ll bet you can’t figure what we did with Calbot.”
“Give me the low-down, Fingers. The bulls didn’t make much fuss about Calbot. I had a hunch that you and Croaker carted the old boy away with you.”
“Not a bit of it. Calbot had a vault down in his cellar. Took me about a half hour to open it. So we shoved him in that and left him there. Croaker didn’t want to shoot until he got upstairs.”
“Now you’re telling me something, Fingers. That’s how you and Croaker got away in such a hurry. You were lucky — as I figure it. You know who we think was there?”
“The Shadow.” Fingers was sober. “Duke told me tonight. He must have come up after he heard Croaker’s shot. That’s how he was in time to start a fight. It’s lucky that your gorillas piled in as quick as they did — if it hadn’t been for them The Shadow might have had a chance to trail after me and Croaker.”
Bozo Griffin heard Fingers Keefel’s comment. The tough-faced lieutenant swelled. This was a justification of the promptness with which he had ordered the raid. Brodie Brodan saw Bozo’s face light.
“That squares you, Bozo,” declared Brodie. “You did a good job tonight, too, covering Marsland the way you did.” Brodie turned to glare at The Shadow’s agent, who was under the muzzle of Fritz Fursch’s gun. “Say, Marsland — you rat — I’d like to give you the works in a hurry. But we’re holding you, see? Holding you so you can squawk. Wait until Duke Larrin gets here. Did you ever hear of him?”
Cliff gave no response. He faced Brodie with unflinching eyes.
But Cliff was thinking plenty. He had heard of Duke Larrin; in fact, he had informed The Shadow of the rumor that the international crook was in New York. In the past ten minutes, Cliff had learned a lot about Duke Larrin. This underground crypt was the famous crook’s lair!
Cliff had much to tell The Shadow. But that opportunity was ended. A prisoner, Cliff could only hope that The Shadow might find another trail to the crime crypt. But Cliff realized the difficulty. Brodie Brodan had been left for Cliff to follow while The Shadow was otherwise engaged. Cliff had failed. A captive, he was helpless. He held the key to crime and could not use it!
“CROAKER MANNICK is coming through,” declared Fingers Keefel, again speaking to Brodie Brodan; “and Duke Larrin says he’ll show up before midnight. Not long to wait. The payoff comes tonight, Brodie — and from what Duke tells me, this is just going to be the beginning. We’re all in for a cut on the swag in that coffin.”
“You telling me?” Brodie grinned. “Say, Fingers, I can talk now. When Duke passed me my instructions, he told me more than he told you. That was just because I had the mobs to look out for, see?
“I picked the real guys to grab off old Nebuchadnezzar’s casket here so that they would be ready for what’s coming next. We’re going to raise hob after the swag is unloaded. Say — if The Shadow pokes his nose around this crypt, he’ll be in for trouble. You — me — Croaker — and the rest of us, all working with Duke Larrin!”
“Out of sight,” agreed Fingers. “Dumb dicks like Joe Cardona will go goofy.”
“Cardona? He’s goofy already. Where do you think he is now? Up at the Egyptian Museum. He pulled out from the Club Madrid and gave me a clean alibi for a starter. Match that, Fingers — match it is the best you can do; you can’t beat it, that’s a cinch.”
Fingers Keefel joined Brodie in raucous mirth. Laughter echoed through the crime crypt. Men of evil had gained their way. They were awaiting the arrival of their comrade in crime, Croaker Mannick and their chief, Duke Larrin.
Cliff Marsland, under the cover of Fritz Fursch’s gun, felt a hopeless weakening as he listened to the merriment of his captors. He felt that he had failed The Shadow. He knew that the police had been eliminated.
Of the two, Cliff trusted The Shadow most. He had seen the master fighter spring into being almost out of nowhere. But in this forgotten crypt, its corridor entrance guarded by Sinker Hargun and a band of thugs, The Shadow, even if he fought through, would be forced to make his presence known.
Cliff groaned as he realized the extent of his failure. The fact that his own rescue seemed impossible was bad; but the thought that crooks might triumph was worse.
Death in The Shadow’s service was something that Cliff Marsland was glad to face. The inability to be of service to his chief was what hurt him.
CHAPTER XIX. CARDONA’S CLEW
WHILE Brodie Brodan was chuckling over Joe Cardona’s dash to the Egyptian Museum, the ace detective had arrived at his destination. The museum was lighted; the front door was open. Joe Cardona entered and a policeman showed him to the room at the end of the corridor.