menacing man was somewhere present.
Using the key, Zelva boldly unlocked the door of the strong room. At his command, the men lifted the
treasure box and carried it toward the deck.
The Shadow appeared beside Zelva, emerging mysteriously from a darkened corner. They reached the
deck and again the man in black stood behind Zelva, giving his low, whispered orders to the group.
“You and all your men take to the boats,” he said. “You go last, with the box. Send one boat ahead to
order the Cordova's crew to start unmolested when your boats start. You understand?”
“Yes,” returned Zelva.
He called the order. The men on the yacht busied themselves with the boats. Zelva was plotting no
longer. He had the money. He would not fear the Cordova after reaching his own ship.
Zelva was the last to descend the ladder. He heard the voice of The Shadow as he was moving toward
the rail.
“I am watching,” came the quiet words. “Be careful. Remember your promise. Bring the box to Legira in
Santander—unopened.—”
A single boat went ahead to give orders. Beneath the moonlight, wondering men were watching from
both sides. Zelva gave an order. His boats moved slowly forward. A motion was visible from beside the
rumrunner. The released crew was starting on its way.
A strange transfer, yet one that worked perfectly. The crew of the Cordova was within gunshot of the
rumrunner. Zelva, sitting stolidly in his boat, was a target for The Shadow. By the time the boats had met,
they were entirely out of range of either ship.
Before the crew arrived, The Shadow appeared in the cabin. Producing an odd-shaped key, he released
Legira from the handcuffs. The Shadow disappeared into the corridor. Legira, wondering, went up on
deck.
He met the crew clambering over the side. The men hurried to their places. The rumrunner was in motion,
traveling away. Soon, the Cordova, too, was under way.
The captain, standing on the bridge, heard Legira speak from the darkness beside him. The words were
in Spanish. They were an order, telling him to head for the mouth of Delaware Bay.
It was not Legira who had spoken. Legira was below, superintending the removal of the bodies of
Ellsdorff and Pesano. It was The Shadow who had spoken. He had simulated the voice of Alvarez
Legira.
The Shadow had rescued Legira and the crew of the captured vessel. Pesano and Ellsdorff were dead.
But Rodriguez Zelva still lived, by virtue of a promise that he would never keep.
This was the result of the compromise.
CHAPTER XXVII. THE JUST REWARD
ALVAREZ LEGIRA stopped at the door of Cabin A. This was the only spot of the ship that he had not
searched. He wanted to find The Shadow—to express his gratitude for the work that the mysterious man
had done.
The door swung open as Legira knocked. The consul entered. There was a light at the far end of the
room. He walked in that direction; then turned to see The Shadow standing by the door.
A low laugh reached Legira's ears. The Shadow spoke in a quiet tone.
“You are going to Santander?” he asked.
“Yes,” replied Legira.
“You will abide by your agreement with Zelva, should he come there?” questioned The Shadow.
“Zelva will never come,” said Legira. “I shall be in disgrace. I have failed. The money is gone. The
Republic of Santander is ended!”
“Suppose that you should have the money,” said The Shadow, quietly, “would you divide it with Zelva if
he came to keep the meeting?”
“I have so agreed,” stated Legira. “I shall abide by my promise.”
The Shadow silently studied his man. Then, he spoke in a low, emphatic tone.
“Pesano and I did business together,” he remarked. “Your strong room is very strong—yet not so strong.
We had time to do our work. Those bags beside you—”
Legira noted the bags in the nearest corner of the room. They were large, heavy traveling bags.
“Open them.”
Legira obeyed The Shadow's order. An amazed, incredulous cry came from his lips. Within the bags lay
the wealth that Legira had obtained in New York! Gold certificates, securities—the entire ten million—
all there!
Legira realized with amazing suddenness that The Shadow, aided by Pesano, had done this work. Here,
on the Cordova, Legira was sailing free from every obstacle, carrying the funds to Santander!
“But Zelva!” Legira's exclamation was spontaneous. “He has the box - the box—it contains nothing?”
“The box contains something,” said The Shadow quietly. “Remember your promise, Legira. If Zelva
comes with that box—unopened—you must give him his share. But do not let any one open the box.
You will receive word from me what to do with it.”
Legira was looking at the money, an expression of profound delight upon his face. Then something of The
LEGIRA was thinking of the box that contained the wealth for Santander. The Shadow had opened that
box, as well as the strong room. What did the box contain?—Legira wondered.
In this, he was not alone. Another man was wondering about the contents of the box. Rodriguez Zelva, in
a locked cabin of the rumrunner, had the box before him. He had opened the box when he had first
captured it; then had closed it for deposit in the strong room.
Now, alone, he had forgotten his promise to The Shadow. Forgotten it by design. Zelva, confident that
no one could have tampered with the box, was, nevertheless, eager to see his illy-acquired gains.
He produced the key—which he had taken from Legira—and undid the fastenings of the box. He spoke
aloud as he placed his hands upon the lid.
“The fool!” he exclaimed. “The fool! The one who thinks himself so brave, yet is a fool!”
He was speaking of The Shadow. The dread specter of the man in black had faded from Zelva's mind,
now that he was away from the menace. Rodriguez Zelva no longer feared the hand of The Shadow.
With eager hands, Zelva raised the lid of the metal-bound box. He saw a greenish color which seemed to
spread itself across the top of the box. Zelva leaned forward.
Wreathing its way upward came a slimy, greenish vapor, that spread itself like a ghoulish monster from
another world. The ghostly shape spread into a formless mass that writhed itself about the man who was
staring into the box.
With a horrible scream, Zelva leaped away. His scream became a choking gasp. The room was filled
with the spreading gas. Greenish specks were dancing. Zelva, coughing, clawed at his eyes. He tried to
stop his mouth. He tottered toward the door, then fell, a huddled figure amid the whirling vapor that
pervaded the entire room.
Within the box rested the container that had held the poison gas. By raising the lid, Zelva had released the
deadly vapor, placed there by The Shadow. Death had gripped Rodriguez Zelva. It was not death by
The Shadow's design; it was death of Zelva's own making.
Had Rodriguez Zelva kept his promise no harm would have befallen him. But in defiance of The Shadow,
he had played the traitor to the last. This master mind of international crime had gone to the fate that he
deserved.
MILES away, the yacht Cordova came to a stop amid the calm sea. Alvarez Legira, wondering, went to
the bridge. He spoke to the captain, in Spanish.
“Why are we stopping here?”
you told me just where we were to heave to—”
The purring of a motor sounded from the water off the lee side of the ship. Alvarez Legira stared in that
direction. The captain followed his example.
The motor boat of the Cordova was speeding through the waters of Delaware Bay, heading for the
mouth of the river. Beneath the glow of the moon, its shape was plain. Standing in the center of the boat
was a figure that appeared phantomlike in the mystic glow.
It was The Shadow!
A weird, creepy laugh floated across the water. A strange, fantastic laugh it was—a laugh that would
never be forgotten by those who heard it from the Cordova. The tones of that laugh were chilling. They
formed mockery that seemed voiced from another world. It was the laugh of The Shadow.
THE END
FB2 document info
Document ID: 78dfd2d4-152a-449f-9be2-f9e88a310c2d
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 20.11.2012
Created using: calibre 0.9.6 software
Document authors :
Maxwell Grant
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