The Lamprey, returning at full speed, could bring doc.u.mentary evidence ash.o.r.e before the Shinwi Maru would arrive, and thus reveal full facts regarding any deal with Sergon.

That, in turn, would force the Barracuda to remain at large much longer, disowned even by the j.a.panese. With weeks, perhaps months, to go before Sergon could receive new offers, the Lamprey would have many opportunities to ferret out her stolen sister ship.

Thus did Commander Prew a.n.a.lyze The Shadow's purpose, believing that his mysterious friend could prepare for any future. In that latter supposition, Prew was very nearly correct.

Nevertheless, he would not have credited it had he been informed of all that The Shadow had foreseen.

There were plans that The Shadow had wisely kept to himself, knowing that it would be better for Prew to learn them when the time came. Those plans were to reach their peak after The Shadow had verified conditions aboard the Shinwi Maru.

At dawn, the China clipper was scheduled for a flight to Honolulu. Aboard that multi-motored airliner would be an added pa.s.senger, The Shadow.

CHAPTER XV. THE MIDNIGHT STROKE.

Six bells. It was eleven o'clock at night. The Shinwi Maru was knifing a sea track toward the dawn that would meet her just short of the Golden Gate.

Grueling work for the Shinwi's captain, that little, weather-beaten j.a.panese who was up there on the liner's ample budge. Not because of any roughness of the sea, for the Pacific was swayed by nothing more violent than long, slow heaves. The trouble was the driving rain that pelted the ship head on, cutting visibility down to guesswork.

How would it affect the Lamprey?

The Shadow considered that, as he sat in a corner of the smoking room puffing slow wreaths of tobacco smoke, to join the many blends already in the air. She would make the meeting, the Lamprey would, he finally decided.

That radiogram had told all that Commander Prew would have to know. In a way, the miserable weather was a help. The skipper of the Shinwi Maru was hanging to his course with true j.a.panese tenacity.

There would be delay, though. Prew would have to lay to, in order to make sure of theShinwi's approach. The mammoth searchlight of the liner didn't cut much of a path against the rain, but it would be a beacon for anyone who watched for it.

It would be some time after midnight.

Not long after, The Shadow hoped. His calculations had been excellent, at first. He had figured that the Shinwi would just about time her speed to reach the Gate at dawn. But that had been before the rain devils had broken loose, in a fashion as vicious as it was inopportune.

Most of the pa.s.sengers had retired. They had found the voyage long enough to suit them, and the rain had dampened this last night's revelry, most of which had been scheduled for the open decks. But there was yet a group that interested The Shadow-that batch of poker players over in a corner of the smoking room.

They were making a lot of noise about it, but that was so their game would not look serious.

They didn't want anyone to think that they were serious, which was one reason why The Shadow had kept tabs upon them.

They weren't j.a.panese, those five men. Two of them might be Americans, but the other three were of doubtful nationality-like many others aboard the Shinwi; but the officers of the j.a.panese liner were too polite to question pa.s.sengers as to their ancestry.

Many people were leaving China these days. People who had originally expected to live there all their lives, but who were finally glad to get away from that war-torn country. Many of them had to come by way of j.a.pan, where they blamed the j.a.panese for their troubles.

The j.a.panese politely accepted the blame, and with it the money for the steamship pa.s.sage. Money counted in quaint old Nippon, where so much was going into the gold fund, to balance the American exchange.

In fact, ships like the Shinwi had carried so many doubtful pa.s.sengers that the officers and crew had become used to them. Perhaps there were outcasts among the eastbound pa.s.sengers, but so long as they behaved themselves, they were ent.i.tled to full courtesy.

Those aboard this trip-the poker players and others of their ilk - had behaved very nicely.

That had suited the j.a.panese, but not The Shadow. He had been piecing together a lot of facts, since boarding the Shinwi at Honolulu. He knew of secret meetings, and what they meant.

He knew also that the men who met were troubled over some uncertainty. Apparently, they formed a group dependent upon one appointed man; but they didn't know which one he was, although he belonged to them. To The Shadow, that savored of a certain very crafty individual whose name he could have given.

There were others who met aboard the Shinwi-staid j.a.panese officials who had important matters to discuss. The Shadow had more or less ignored them and that would have worried Commander Rodney Prew.

ONE of the poker players went out. Another man dropped in to take his place. With all their hilarity, tension was becoming high. Probably they were rushing things because they had nothing else to do. But they were glancing about the smoking room, casting suspicious eyes upon the few other people who remained.

On that account, The Shadow decided to advance his own move, for he was positive that he could lose nothing by such action. Strolling from the smoking room, he took a pa.s.sage to his stateroom. Arrived there, The Shadow seated himself before a mirror. He looked at a face quite different from that of Lamont Cranston. It was fuller; though maskish, it was less distinguished.

It was the face that he had used when he booked pa.s.sage on the Shinwi Maru, because it went with the name that he had also adopted.

The Shadow was aboard the liner as a man named Henry Arnaud.

Steady smears with a towel would have obliterated the Arnaud disguise, but The Shadow had other plans. He worked deftly, smoothly, plucking here, molding there, until he literally removed a false layer from his face. The reason for this care became evident when the face of Cranston emerged.

As Arnaud, The Shadow had worn one disguise over another.

Curious that he should become Lamont Cranston again. That particular ident.i.ty was one that had been guessed by certain j.a.panese, particularly Ishi Soyoto. There was a chance that every steward on the Shinwi Maru had a description of Lamont Cranston. For Ishi Soyoto had heard nothing more from Cranston since the time when the jujitsu squad had brought back The Shadow's message.

The Shadow had done a favor for Soyoto that time; but somehow, he and Soyoto had begun a game of this for that. A good turn did not mean that another was to follow. In fact, the policy had been something of the reverse.

There was a way, however, to avoid all pa.s.sing stewards. From a secret compartment of a special trunk that he had purchased in Hawaii, The Shadow produced his garb of black.

Cloaked, hatted and gloved, he stole from his stateroom. His course led to B deck.

Few stewards were about. None saw the gliding thing of blackness that knew every cranny along those pa.s.sages. When The Shadow finally stepped into a little side pa.s.sage, he was past all chance of discovery.

The door that he tried was locked. But anyone inside could not have heard the turn of the handle. Nor did The Shadow's use of a special key give any inkling of his invasion. He opened the door so neatly, that a glide into the cabin was a simple operation.

Across the cabin, a man was seated by a desk. His back was turned and his huddled position made it difficult to judge his height. The Shadow quietly closed the door, then took a chair of his own. From beneath his cloak, he drew an automatic; with the same move, he let his cloak slide from his shoulders. Peeling off his gloves, he removed his hat.

As Lamont Cranston, he sat with his .45 leveled right between the shoulder blades of the man by the desk.

The hardest part of The Shadow's whole endeavor was to attract the man's attention. He wanted to do it to a degree of nicety; to excite curiosity, rather than alarm. Slight scuffles, shifting of the chair- neither seemed to work. It was not until the tone of seven bells came vaguely to the cabin that The Shadow had the perfect opportunity.

The man in the chair looked up from his book. Momentarily diverted from his reading, he heard the slight stir that The Shadow made. The man looked about, came halfway from his chair in his surprise. He froze in that position when he saw the automatic.

A whispered laugh came from The Shadow's fixed lips. He relished this situation. It was acomplete reversal of one that had been engineered at his own expense. He had not forgotten a certain night in San Francisco. Nor had the man from the chair.

That man was Ishi Soyoto.

AT first, Soyoto's eyes were disturbed; then his lips provided a wrinkly smile. He reached for his chair, turned it about. Folding his arms, he stared placidly at The Shadow.

"It is an honor," he said choppily, "to meet you here, Mr. Cranston. Especially since I have been to many pains to make sure you were not aboard the Shinwi Maru."

"I was not aboard," returned The Shadow, his words a monotone, "until a very short while ago."

"You mean, perhaps, that Mr. Cranston was not aboard?"

"That describes it."

Soyoto smiled wanly. He was looking very much at ease, and he decided to explain why.

"As I once told you, Mr. Cranston," he a.s.serted, "my government is interested only in acquiring Felix Sergon; not anything that he may have stolen. Of course"-his smile ended, for he was becoming humorous-"no man should ever speak for a government. But I took that liberty.

"I made no mistake. When I was called to Honolulu, to meet officials from my country, they a.s.sured me that I was correct in all that I had said. As you probably know"-Soyoto showed his smile-"I have talked with them further, since we sailed from Hawaii."

The Shadow's silence was encouragement for Soyoto to continue. The j.a.panese proceeded.

"The one question," he a.s.sured, "was whether it would be wise to tell your government what we know about Felix Sergon. That, we have decided, is the policy of friendship, and, therefore, the right thing to do.

"We shall insist, of course, that his name be kept a secret. We want Felix Sergon to believe that we shall give him welcome. That will bring him into our hands."

A singular tone chilled that cabin. It was The Shadow's laugh, sinister because it spoke of matters evil, to which its author was opposed.

Ishi Soyoto shifted uneasily, fearing that the tone was addressed to him. A moment later, he knew otherwise. The Shadow's mirth had ended. In the calm tone of Cranston, he inquired: "Do you have a revolver?"

Soyoto nodded.

"Then get it."

Hopping to a suitcase, the j.a.p produced the gun. When he turned about, he saw The Shadow again enveloped in his cloak, only the burn of his eyes visible beneath the brim of his slouch hat.

Almost wonderingly, Soyoto followed The Shadow from the cabin. They neared the big stairway that led up to the strong room. At the last turn, The Shadow halted. "Felix Sergon does not believe you want him," he told Soyoto in a low whisper. "But even if he did, he would have no reason to care. Wherever he is, he has already found security, enough to suit his taste.

"You have counted upon Sergon's thirst for wealth. It has lulled you into believing that j.a.panese ships are secure from his attack, on the theory that he intends to treat with you.

But what ship could be safe when it carries five million dollars?"

Across Soyoto's dryish features came the greatest alarm that he had ever shown. The Shadow's logic could not be disputed. Through Soyoto's mind flashed the fact that the Shinwi Maru was driving closer to the coast where Sergon had previously lurked. To his lips came the spoken thought: "At dawn?"

"Or before," declared The Shadow. "This ship is peopled by the strongest array of accomplices that Sergon has as yet a.s.sembled. They are pa.s.sengers, not crew members.

We have time, however, to prepare for them -"

SCUFFLING noises interrupted from above. Soyoto sprang forward; The Shadow restrained him. Peering from a corner, The Shadow saw faces that looked down the stairway, then retired from sight. He motioned Soyoto forward. Side by side, they crept up the stairway.

At the top, they saw the j.a.panese purser and an a.s.sistant; both had lifted arms. Four masked men held them covered with revolvers, while another was using the purser's keys to enter the room across the way. Crouched low, The Shadow and Soyoto kept from sight.

Eight bells-midnight-had not yet struck. Events had begun far earlier than even The Shadow had antic.i.p.ated. But this invasion of the strong room might have been hurried because it was the most vital step. It had been accomplished with remarkable ease; but therein lay its weakness.

Thinking themselves undiscovered, the five men forced their prisoners into the strong room, then followed, intending to close the door behind them. That was when The Shadow launched toward them, Soyoto at his elbow.

Before the crooks could swing the door, they heard The Shadow's laugh-a fierce, mocking taunt that brought a tremble even from his ally, Ishi Soyoto.

Swung about, Sergon's tools were covered by a brace of giant automatics held by a being that they recognized as crime's greatest foe!

The puny revolver that Soyoto aimed was unneeded as a backing to The Shadow's threat.

Lips winced below masks, as the huddled invaders let their revolvers drop. They were trapped at the very goal they had conspired to reach, the strong room where five million in gold had been within their very clutch!

As the echo of The Shadow's challenge faded, the solemn clang of eight bells sounded through the pa.s.sages of the Shinwi Maru.

The stroke of midnight. The Shadow's hour!

Helpless crooks were filing from the strong room, hopeful only that The Shadow would grant them life. Standing there with Soyoto, at the head of the wide stairway, The Shadow stood supreme. Nothing, it seemed, could shake him from his victory. The next instant jarred The Shadow's triumph.

Out of that instant came a mighty blast, a message from the deep that almost hoisted the mighty liner from the waves. Steel plates quivered, bursting, as every light went black.

Stopped by the compelling force of that explosion, The Shinwi Maru made puppets of all on board. All were flung forward by an irresistible impetus.

Headlong, The Shadow plunged to the bottom of the stairway, Soyoto with him. Both were still tumbling when flattened crooks began to reach their feet in the cross pa.s.sage that fronted the opened strong room.

Again the game was turned. Men of crime had not played their cards too soon. They had acted upon express orders of Felix Sergon, who had sprung the unexpected upon The Shadow, as well as the j.a.panese, by advancing his usual hour of attack.

The Barracuda had arrived ahead of the Lamprey, and had opened with a stroke well calculated to do away with any resistance aboard the Shinwi Maru.

The Z-boat had launched a torpedo that exploded the instant it struck the liner's hull!

CHAPTER XVI. SERGON'S TRIUMPH.

IN the chaos aboard the Shinwi Maru, The Shadow lay forgotten. Crooks had last sighted him pitching down the stairway in a hapless, whirling, breakneck dive that promised his obliteration. That was almost enough to convince them that he was permanently out of combat.

They were shaken, too, by the shock that had shuddered the Shinwi, so that when they reached their feet, they reeled in darkness, unable to gather their senses. They had not expected the Barracuda to attack so early. They had counted upon holding the strong room for at least an hour.

The crew had a leader-the man appointed by Sergon to start the shipboard crime in motion. His growl reached the ears of his confederates above the babble and confusion that had gripped the rainswept decks outside. Though his commands were almost incoherent, the leader managed to remind his men of their appointed task.

That was the removal of the gold.

It lay there, ready for them to take; but it weighed twelve thousand pounds, or more. A long and arduous task for the five men appointed, but the ingenuity of Felix Sergon lay in back of them. He had calculated well, that master of modern piracy.

Sergon had believed that when the Shinwi was torpedoed, the one place that would be neglected was the strong room. Officers would be busy rallying the crew to aid the pa.s.sengers. Human lives would be more important than the gold, which -like the average cargo of a stricken ship-seemed destined to share the fate of the Shinwi.

All happened as Sergon had designed.

Aboard the Shinwi Maru, one person alone had antic.i.p.ated the secret seizure of the strong room. That being was The Shadow, and ill chance had removed him from partic.i.p.ation.

True, The Shadow had taken one man into his confidence; but that one man, Ishi Soyoto, had also been wiped from combat.

As for the purser and his a.s.sistant, their rally was promptly suppressed. Struggling at thedoor of the strong room, they were slugged and thrown back. That done, five crooks began to work like coal heavers, relaying the small crates of gold from the strong room to the deck.