Shadow, the Mysterious Detective

  CHAPTER VII.

  A HAPPY MOMENT.

  When Shadow left us outside and entered through the door which heopened by aid of the pass-key taken from the captured "lookout," heturned aside from the hall, into the store.

  As before stated, one marked peculiarity of his was his light tread, solight that none but a suspicious and very acute ear could detect it.

  From his pocket he took a wax match and lighted it. Before it hadburned so low as to necessitate his blowing it out, he had gained suchadditional knowledge as he required, which was principally that themovable articles in the room were in the same positions as when he hadcome here to eat oysters on several occasions.

  The trap-door that had been cut through the floor behind the counterwas open; to its head Shadow softly went.

  Noiselessly as a cat he descended the stairs to the cellar, and therewas guided forward by the light that shone through the breach in thefoundation wall.

  He soon reached the breach, without having aroused any suspicion of hisproximity, and obtained a hasty although comprehensive glance into thevault beneath the bank.

  The burglars had had easy work, and had already secured the "swag."

  In fact, at that very moment two of their number were engaged inbringing loads of specie to the breach.

  So close were they that Shadow could not retreat without discoveringhimself to them.

  He shrank back against the wall, and edging away, paused only when adozen or fifteen feet from the breach.

  Through this the two burglars passed, entering the cellar beneath thestore.

  Shadow supposed that after depositing their loads both would return tothe bank building. In this he was mistaken, for while one returned theother remained for the purpose of receiving the loads which now beganto arrive.

  The detective was in a box.

  To attempt to retreat now was equivalent to detection: to remain, hewould be spotted the very minute a light was brought into the cellar.While it was dark, and he even suppressed his breath, he was safe, butfor no greater length of time.

  Shadow at last determined on making an attempt to reach the stairs andmount them, so as to give us the word.

  Holding his breath, he took a step, and then paused.

  In a minute he took one more step and paused again.

  He had not been heard.

  Still another step.

  And yet he was undetected.

  Taking advantage of the bustle at the time of the delivery of eacharmful, he would glide along several feet. In this manner he had nearlyreached the foot of the stairs, and so far as he could judge wasunsuspected.

  But as yet he had only had play when compared with the tact required tomount the stairs.

  When half way up he overheard whispers. The words he could notcomprehend, but, as he heard no movement toward the stairs, he thoughtthey did not refer to him.

  But they did.

  The stairs had cracked and squeaked, notwithstanding his carefulness instepping.

  And the earth which had softened his footfalls so that they had notbeen heard, now performed the same kindly office for the burglars.

  They were edging toward the stairs.

  They reached the foot, as Shadow reached the head of them.

  Any doubt which the burglars may have had was put to flight by hearingthe sigh of relief which unconsciously fell from Shadow's lips as hetook the last upward step.

  At once there was a rush up-stairs by the villainous crew.

  So promptly did they accomplish the ascent of the stairs that Shadowhad no time to cross the store floor to the hall.

  As already described, the bull's-eye flashed its light on him, afterwhich there was a grand rush at him, followed by a low groan and thethud of a falling body.

  "Poor fellow!" I inwardly exclaimed. "Poor Mrs. Morris--how her son'sdeath will grieve her."

  Meanwhile I was not idle.

  My hand had dipped into my pocket, and now held a parlor match.

  "Ready!"

  So I lowly said to my men.

  Then I suddenly struck the match, glanced around, sprang to the gasfixture my eye lighted on, turned on the gas, and in less than fiveseconds from the time of striking the match, the scene was lighted by ablazing gas jet.

  "Surrender!" I sternly ordered, leveling a brace of revolvers, beforethe rascals had ceased to gasp in surprise at the sudden turn affairshad taken.

  Then they turned and made a rush toward the trap-door behind the bar.

  But with equal swiftness I sprang upon the counter, kneeling in aposition to command the entrance to the cellar.

  "The first man who tries to escape in that direction gets a bulletin his noddle!" I grimly told them, and they halted short in theirstampede, and dumbly looked at each other.

  "Close in, boys!"

  This to my men.

  "Now then, my hearties, you're fairly cornered, and the wisest thingfor you to do is to cave."

  "Don't give in, lads!" yelled a gruff voice. "We're almost as many asthey are, and a good bold stroke will carry us out."

  Thus encouraged, the desperate men made a wild, although irresolute andwavering charge.

  "Stand firm!" I yelled to my men, and then aimed at the leader of thegang.

  He had cocked his revolver, was aiming at my head with deadly intent.

  It was my life or his, and I pulled the trigger.

  Crack!

  With a single groan, he sank to the floor, with a bullet in his brain.

  "Close in now! And shoot every man who offers resistance!"

  The men did as directed.

  The charge had been only half-hearted anyhow, and the fall of theirleader completely demoralized the remainder, and dropping theirweapons, they flung up their hands in token of surrender.

  In less than two minutes we had them all handcuffed.

  When I had heard the last pair of bracelets click, I put up myrevolver, but not before; and then I wiped the perspiration from myforehead.

  It is singular how quickly a man begins to perspire in moments ofexcitement like this through which I had passed, but perspire he alwaysdoes, and freely at that.

  I had caught a glimpse of a body stretched on the floor at the fartherside of the room from where I was perched on the counter.

  "Poor Mat! Poor Shadow!"

  So I muttered as I made my way toward the body. It laid just where Ihad last seen Shadow standing, in the full glare of the light from thebull's-eye lantern.

  I reached the body, and--_it was not that of Shadow!_

  I rubbed my eyes. No, it was not Shadow. I arose to my feet and glancedabout the room. But naught was to be seen of the lithe figure of themysterious detective.

  Nobody had seen him go out by way of the hall. Then, I thought, he musthave descended to the cellar.

  But when we went down-stairs, we could find no trace of him there.

  He had disappeared.

  But how, or where to, not the wisest one of us could say.

  Neither could I imagine how he had escaped with his life, when theymade that wild rush at him.