Trebold scowled as the sheriff turned about. With the deputy following, Hawlings made his way toward an obscure roadway past the slope. Trebold made no comment, nor did any of his sullen men.
From somewhere on the lake came the chugging of the motorboat in which Rex and Harry had departed.
Then followed the rumble of the sheriff’s automobile. The car sent back jouncing sounds as it started along a rocky road.
“TOUGH baby, that sheriff,” commented one of Trebold’s crew. “Talks like he meant business!”
“Sounded like he was scairt of Old Absalom, though,” chuckled another of the outfit. “Maybe he had words with that old bozo.”
“Old Absalom’s cuckoo,” chimed in another. “All he says is ‘Gimmee ‘baccy’ — yah, and then jingles a pocketful of change. I wouldn’t worry about that old goof. If he—”
“Nix on the chatter,” interrupted Trebold. “It’s bad enough to have the sheriff mooching around here, without having to listen to you saps gab about it. Come on” — he picked up a lantern as he spoke — “and start that pinochle game we was talking about when the tin-star blew in.”
Other men arose as Trebold spoke. They went into one of the cabins. Two of the crew remained on duty — one smoking a pipe, while the other whittled away at a stick.
The putt-putt of the motorboat was only a tiny echo in the distance. Croaking frogs, the occasional buzz of a gnat — these were the only sounds outside the cabin. From inside came the mumble of voices. The card game had begun.
Outside, lanterns made a vague circle where the two men were seated. Along that fringe of light came a gliding tinge of darkness. Someone was skirting the luminous circle, gliding softly and unseen.
The doorway to the Chalice mine shaft showed dimly. Neither man was looking in that direction. One was staring toward the ground; the other out to the lake. Hence they failed to observe the strange manifestation that occurred.
The doors were blackened by a bat-like shape. A living figure pressed close against the entrance to the mine shaft. Taking advantage of the break-up of the throng. The Shadow had approached the spot that the sheriff had tabooed.
THE SHADOW’S form, almost motionless, obscured his gloved hands as they worked. The big padlock was formidable; it would have required a heavy sledge to crack it. But The Shadow was working on that lock, picking it with a wedge-shaped tool of metal.
The lock yielded. Softly, The Shadow removed it from its staple. He drew back the hasp. He drew on one door. A hinge began to groan. The Shadow muffled the noise with his body.
The opening widened by inches. Then the black shape performed a sidewise maneuver. Easily, The Shadow entered the shaft.
The door closed only part way behind him. A narrow crevice remained. Reaching through it, The Shadow swung the hasp back into position. Pressing the other half of the door outward, he managed, with a minimum of space, to let hasp come over staple. He pressed the padlock into place and clicked it.
One of the two men looked about. The fellow had heard the click; his eyes caught the slight waver of the doors as they settled inward. The man uttered an oath.
“What is it, Cholly?” inquired his companion.
“Them doors, Beef,” returned Cholly. “Looked like somebody was jiggling them!”
“Locked, ain’t they?”
“Le’s go see.”
Cholly sauntered over to examine the doors. He found the padlock in position. “Beef,” arriving, uttered a laugh.
“Looks like you’re goofy, Cholly,” he said. “Seeing things, ain’t you? Whatta you want me to do — call Luke?”
“Naw,” retorted Cholly. “No use in that, Beef. Just the same, he don’t want nobody fooling around here — and it’s our job to watch these here doors, even if we do go bugs while we’re looking at them.”
The two men went back to their places on the bench. They forgot the episode. The Shadow’s strategy had tricked these observers.
MINUTES passed. A light glimmered in the mine shaft. It was far below the doors; its rays were directed downward.
The Shadow was descending at a downward angle into the earth. His course was straight, between rocky walls; but his pace was a stride. The floor of the passage was smooth enough to permit it.
The Shadow stopped. He had reached a turn. He rested his flashlight upon a little ledge. Paper came into view. The Shadow marked the number of his paces. He produced a compass and held the instrument level until it indicated north. He drew a penciled line on the paper.
That was not all. The Shadow produced an instrument like a carpenter’s level and held it until an air bubble rested level in the center of a watery tube. He raised an angled sight and calculated by directing it back along the shaft. He added another notation to his sheet.
Taking the turn in the passage, The Shadow continued his progress. He came to a division of the shaft.
There he made new calculations. He took one rocky road, sighted it and determined the direction at every turn. Reaching an end of this side passage, he made a notation and returned. The interior of the Chalice mine formed a labyrinth of passages. Always descending, these side channels had been driven off, then abandoned. The rock was dull and barren, except at rare places where a micalike substance glistened in the walls.
The main passage, though it curved and twisted, was easy enough to follow. Each time that the diggers had found no gold ore, they had returned to drive the sloping shaft still farther.
Each side passage ended in a mass of shattered rock. Evidently, when orders for abandonment came, the useless stone had been left where it lay. At last, after a return to the main shaft, The Shadow reached a final spot where the chief tunnel also ended in chunks.
The Shadow placed his paper upon a large stone. He produced a map — a topographical survey chart — that showed the ground about Lake Chalice. He compared this with his own mapping of the Chalice mine.
From the comparison, The Shadow discovered the exact spot where he stood. The main shaft had ended a hundred yards inland from the lake.
The depth, as The Shadow calculated it, was some thirty feet below the ground level on the lake shore.
The shaft had twisted so it was heading lakeward when abandoned.
A soft laugh came from The Shadow’s lips as his eyes studied the diagrams beneath his light.
A blackened finger pointed to one of the side shafts that The Shadow had followed. It was a longer shaft than some of the others. Its slope had been considerable. It had gone off to the left of the main shaft, paralleling the lake shore.
THE SHADOW returned upgrade until he reached the entrance to that particular siding. He took the side shaft and came to its rocky ending. Setting his flashlight so he could work within the rays, The Shadow began to remove chunks of rock. A black opening showed ahead, above the level of the floor.
The Shadow found ample space to enter the hole. He found himself upon a rough-hewn floor, yet one that was level and had a ceiling high enough for standing room.
Making new calculations, The Shadow followed this path. He was traveling left. He came to a slope that led down to the right. But he did not take it. Instead, he kept straight onward.
At the end of a few hundred yards, The Shadow struck a cross shaft. He marked his calculations; he used the compass, then threw his light down a slope to the right.
That end of the cross shaft ended within thirty paces. The Shadow turned left. He followed up a slope.
At times, his light caught glitter from rocky walls. But The Shadow’s interest lay straight ahead. He was careful, exacting in his calculations, until he came to a steep incline. Almost vertical, this shaft ended in a mass of jagged, chunky rock that looked cracked and ready to fall inward.