His ammunition exhausted, The Shadow had left the rest of the fray to the crew of the Aquamarine; now, the folly of the men on the yacht seemed destined to be their undoing. Lined along the rail, grimly determined to resist the attackers, they were open targets to the deadly weapon which Professor Sheldon maneuvered into action.
Over the bulwark of the black ship came the muzzle of a machine gun! Elevated above the protecting parapet, jutting straight toward the yacht, this instrument of death was handled by a man who lay below in safety!
Consternation reigned as the crew and passengers of the Aquamarine saw that terrible device turning coldly in their direction.
The black ship was exactly beside the yacht — within a few seconds a raking hail of metal was due to sweep down all who offered resistance!
Scattered revolver shots burst vainly from spots along the rail of the yacht. They did no damage — the bulwark of the pirate craft prevented that. Professor Sheldon and his handful of hardened men had ducked under cover. The machine gunner held a periscopic sight for his sure-fire weapon.
Others on the Aquamarine flung themselves flat upon the deck. A few more made mad dives for companionways. All was futile. They were trapped. They lacked time to elude that grim instrument of death. Professor Sheldon’s vile scheme was on the brink of success.
But while dozens aboard the yacht lost their nerve completely, one man acted in daring fashion. The Shadow, with incredible swiftness, launched a strange and unexpected attack.
Flinging his automatics aside, the black-cloaked phantom leaped forward. Like a mammoth creature of darkness, he sprang from the top of the central cabin to the deck below. Still using the force of his spring, he bounded to the rail and launched his weird form in a long, sweeping plunge over the side of the yacht!
Feet-foremost, The Shadow’s body struck the water within two feet of the black ship. The well-directed leap brought him beside the bulwarked cockpit. Those long, upstretched arms momentarily blocked the line of fire from the machine gun; then, The Shadow’s powerful hands clutched the deadly weapon itself!
Just as the hidden man behind the parapet was about to loose his fire, The Shadow’s body, rising from the water, dropped again. The strong arms, wrapped about the barrel of the machine gun, wrested the projecting instrument from its moorings. Over the side came Professor Sheldon’s weapon of death.
A cry of new hope rose from the deck of the yacht as The Shadow, dragging the machine gun with him, sank beneath the surface of the glassy sea!
Inspired by the example of The Shadow, the crew of the yacht acted swiftly. Armed men clambered to the rail, ready to hurl themselves upon the deck of the pirate craft, under protection of their companions who remained behind.
But in the moment of hesitation, the foiled men in the black ship had realized their predicament. In a twinkling, the water churned, and the lowlying vessel cut away from the yacht, plowing through the sea with a swift start that carried it beyond harm’s way.
Revolver shots came futilely from the rear bulwark; they were answered with scattered firing from the crew of the Aquamarine. Heading away, the black ship was buried in the night, beyond the range of the yacht’s searchlights!
IT was then that the captain of the Aquamarine shouted forth new orders. Rescue the man who had gone over the side! Bring back the grim fighter who had saved the yacht!
Where was he — this being whose deadly aim had felled the mutineers — this strange dynamo of action who had leaped forth to capture the machine gun from the pirate ship?
Nothing showed upon the surface of the water, where the yacht’s searchlights played in concentrated rays. The Shadow was gone — when last seen, he had been swallowed by the smooth sea. The search was in vain.
As long, questing minutes passed, those aboard the Aquamarine were forced to accept one unhappy conclusion. They believed that their rescuer was dead; that in his madcap effort, he had sunk with the heavy machine gun to the depths of the sea. With cloak tangled in the metal mechanism, The Shadow had left their sight, and certainly would not appear again.
As the Aquamarine steamed slowly onward, those aboard were sobered by the unfortunate outcome which had meant the loss of the unknown fighter who had turned sure defeat into complete victory.
CHAPTER XXII
THE RETURN
SWISHING through the silent water, its submerged prow cutting through the glassy, waveless surface, Professor Sheldon’s mystery ship slowed its course as it entered the bay near East Point. The bulwarks were down; the professor, standing in the cockpit, was looking forward beyond the empty cabin that lay beneath the deck.
Directly ahead loomed Little Knob — a black, obscure mound in the gloomy night. Lester, at the helm of the defeated craft, was guiding it with cool precision. He picked a spot that he seemed able to distinguish without difficulty. The black ship slowly nosed its way among the rocks, swerving into a tiny cove.
All those on board crouched low. Inkiness swept over them as the ship, virtually awash, glided beneath a flattened arch of stone. The black roof began to slope upward; a half minute later the yacht swerved into a channel where a single light marked the way.
Professor Sheldon and his picked men — Lester, Shoyer, and two gangsters from Beef Norbin’s mob — were traveling through subterranean canals, heading to the base where this strange ship was kept.
The strange ship turned a curving channel and came to a stop beside a small dock. Here, above a metal doorway, were lights that illuminated the grotesque scene. The door was open, and a man was standing there. He pounced forward to greet the returning men.
It was Beef Norbin.
“You got the yacht, eh?” he exclaimed in exultation, while two men beside him were seizing guy lines to anchor the craft. “Good work, chief! We can load and get started—”
Professor Sheldon raised his hand and further words died on Norbin’s lips. The old man clambered from the black ship and drew Beef along the dock. The gang leader listened in bewilderment as Sheldon spoke.
“We failed,” said the professor. “Failed completely” — his tone was fiendish in its grimness — “because of the same man — the one that you told me about—”
“The Shadow!”
“Yes. The Shadow. He was aboard the yacht.”
“How did he get there?”
“I do not know. He shot down the mutineers. When we were starting machine-gun fire, he leaped from the yacht and carried our gun overboard.”
Beef Norbin whistled.
“Where is The Shadow now?” he questioned in an awed tone.
A spark of fiendish exultation glittered on Sheldon’s face. He had seen the finish of the fight; like those on the yacht, he shared the belief that The Shadow had perished.
“At the bottom of the ocean,” he declared. “That, at least, is comforting. Our plans have failed — but I have others!”
THE professor looked about him as though admiring the fittings of this channel. He waved his hand toward the door that led to the golden grotto beyond.
“This arrangement,” remarked the professor, “cost me a small fortune, Norbin. But why should that worry me? We have two millions in gold. I have papers, documents, and plans that will enable me to amass millions more. Our boat is swift — the weather is perfect for a quick voyage.
“This time, I have provided against the alarm. When Traymer sent the radiogram, he instructed the operator — one of our men on the yacht — to demolish the sending apparatus. We did not intend to use it. I am confident that a good job was done this time, much better than the makeshift method employed aboard the Patagonia.
“We can head inshore to a landing spot in Long Island Sound. There unload, and scuttle the ship. Or we can take to sea. I have a perfect base arranged on one of the uninhabited islands of the Bermuda group. We can go on, if necessary, to the West Indies.”