CHAPTER XXI
MR. SHEI'S STRATAGEM
A swarm of jumbled thoughts and emotions crowded each fraction of asecond as The Gray Phantom, standing with his back against the door,heard Slade's slow and precise voice pronounce the numerals. At eachdistinctly spoken word he started as if a rapier had prodded hisflesh. His gaze was fixed on Helen, who from her position in thestairway stared down on the scene with eyes that appeared to seenothing, and the blank look in her face told him that she wasmercifully oblivious of the meaning of it all.
With the speed of lightning, stray thoughts and impressions flashedthrough The Phantom's mind. Slade had warned him that Helen would diewhen he had counted ten, unless The Phantom surrendered in themeantime. At Helen's back, shielded by her body against a possiblebullet from The Phantom's revolver, stood the executioner, ready topress the trigger.
Things swam in confusion before The Phantom's eyes. He would gladlyhave given his life if thereby he could save Helen from herpredicament. But Slade dared not kill him just yet, not until he hadlearned where Doctor Tagala was hidden, and so he hoped to force ThePhantom into submission by threatening Helen. The plan was subtle andfiendishly clever, and more than once, as the seconds dragged by, ThePhantom had been on the point of yielding. The only thing that hadrestrained him was the belief that his surrender would only make thesituation worse. It would deprive him of his precarious advantage, andthen Helen's position would be doubly desperate.
Once he glanced at the automatic in his hand, wishing that he couldfire a bullet into the figure crouching behind Helen. It was a forlornhope, for the coward knew better than to expose himself. Again Slade'svoice, pronouncing each syllable with excessive precision, broke inupon his thoughts:
"--five--six--seven----"
The Phantom jerked up his head as an inspiration flashed through hismind. He still had an advantage, though his aching mind had not beenable to grasp it until this very minute. Again his eyes sought thepistol drooping from his nerveless right hand.
"--eight--nine----" A note of hesitancy crept into Slade's accents, and helooked expectantly at The Phantom. Evidently he was reluctant topronounce the final word, the word that would mean Helen's death. Hevastly preferred that The Phantom should accept his terms, but hisface showed no sign of yielding from his purpose.
His lips opened, and in another moment the fatal word would have beenspoken. But in that brief interval The Phantom acted, and the wordnever left Slade's lips. Instead he uttered a long-drawn-outexclamation of amazement.
The Phantom's maneuver had been both swift and surprising. The bluesteel of his automatic had flashed for an instant in the dim light,and then he had pressed its muzzle firmly against his heart. For a fewmoments the crowd stared in dumfounded amazement; then a startled lookin Slade's face showed that he understood. He bit his lip andsuppressed a cry of rage.
"If Miss Hardwick dies, I die, too," declared The Phantom in grittyaccents; and the metallic gleam of his eye and the note of grimearnestness in his voice left no doubt of his sincerity. "And youcan't afford to let me die, Slade. With me dead, you would never findTagala, and then the bottom would drop out of Mr. Shei's scheme."
Slade fumed and gnashed his teeth in impotent rage. A glance at ThePhantom's face, smiling and yet grimly determined, seemed to increasehis fury. But The Phantom's airy confidence was all on the surface. Heknew that his dramatic gesture had only postponed the crisis, andalready his mind was planning another move.
At last Slade's rage cooled and his reason reasserted itself. Pointingto the stairway, he bawled an order to the man behind Helen to takeher back to her room. The Phantom drew a long breath of relief as shewas half led, half carried up the remaining steps; but the comfort thesight gave him was of brief duration.
Now Slade's finger was pointing at himself. "Take his gun away," heordered the men lined up behind him. "Make a rush for him, all atonce, but don't shoot. Go!"
The men bounded forward, but in the same instant The Phantom's pistolspoke twice. Two yells of pain followed the sharp cracks of theweapon, and the leaders of the rush sank to the floor. The othersstopped, stared diffidently at the steadily pointing pistol, thenwavered and fell back. Once more The Phantom had triumphed. He cast aquick glance at the two who had fallen. He had aimed to cripple, notto kill, and he could see that their wounds were not serious.
Slade shook his fist at the cowering men.
"Are you all white-livered kittens?" he shouted. "Are you going to letone man bluff you? Rush at him again, all together!"
The Phantom tensed himself for the attack. He quavered inwardly as herecalled that only two slugs remained in his cartridge chamber. Hecrouched behind the pistol, fixing each man in turn with a piercinggaze. The line advanced with a rush. Someone, more intrepid than theothers, seized one of his legs and tried to pull him to the floor, butThe Phantom disposed of him with a vigorous kick. The next wasdispatched with a well-aimed bullet, and the third went reeling to thefloor from a blow with the butt of his pistol. He took careful aimbefore he fired his one remaining shot, and a scream of agony toldthat the bullet had found its mark. Again the line wavered and broke.On the floor lay five who had been maimed by The Phantom's bullets andone who was still unconscious from the blow with the pistol. Of theoriginal eleven combatants only five remained, but also The Phantom'sammunition was spent, and at any moment one or more of the woundedmight revive and get back into the fray.
Slade's face was white with helpless rage. He could not know that ThePhantom's cartridge chamber was empty. He stamped his foot and againshook his fist at the men. Taking advantage of his temporarydistraction, The Phantom glided forward and, stooping quickly,snatched a pistol from the cramped fingers of one of the wounded. Thenhe threw down his own weapon and hurried back to his position at thedoor.
Slade noticed his sudden move out of the tail of an eye, but not soonenough to prevent it. He turned again to the remnant of his littlearmy. His face was dark and bore an ominous scowl.
"We will get him yet," he declared, snarling. "Form a line and takeaim, but don't shoot to kill. Aim for the arms and legs only. Don'tshoot until I give the word."
The men spread out in a half circle, and The Phantom saw five pistolspointing at him. There was a malevolent grin on Slade's lips as hewatched the preparations. Then he stepped to one side of the halfcircle.
"Fire!" he commanded.
The Phantom ducked just as a chorus of shots rang out. A stingingsensation in the shoulder told him he had been hit, but he choked backthe cry of pain that rose in his throat. A dense film of powder hungin the air, and for a few moments the firing line was only a row ofshadowy forms. The Phantom thought of flight, but someone opened awindow and the smoke quickly scattered. In the next instant the blareof a motor horn was heard in the distance.
The men exchanged quick glances, and The Phantom fancied he saw a lookof relief on Slade's face. In the muttered conversation that followedhe made out the name of Mr. Shei, and new misgivings caused him toforget the stinging pain in his shoulder. Slade's handling of thesituation had exposed him as a bungler, but for Mr. Shei's ingenuityand resourcefulness The Phantom had a high respect. If Mr. Shei hadarrived, as the blare of the horn and the conversation among the menseemed to signify, then a new and more critical situation awaited him.
He glanced toward the end of the hall. A faint glimmer of dawn showedagainst the window back of the stairway railing. The night had beencrowded with exciting events, and the time had passed more quicklythan he realized. Again Mr. Shei's name was mentioned among the men,and then a hush fell over the group. A door opened at one side of thehall, and in the next instant The Phantom's eyes widened into abewildered stare.
The tall man who entered and was received with such marked deferenceby Slade and the others was none other than Vincent Starr!
A film floated before The Phantom's eyes. It seemed almostunbelievable at first, but a succession of minor incidents andcircumstances that had vaguely puzzled him at times suddenly came
backto him in the light of a new significance. He had been blind, he toldhimself; yet it was no wonder that he had been deceived. His concernfor Helen had been uppermost in his mind, and he was forced to admitthat Starr had played his game very shrewdly.
The newcomer cast a swift, comprehensive glance up and down the hall,then turned to Slade, and the two engaged in a low-voicedconversation. Now and then Starr mentioned Culligore's name, and ThePhantom gathered from isolated words and phrases that something of anunpleasant nature had happened to the lieutenant. He learned, too,that there had been developments that necessitated quick action on Mr.Shei's part and that the latter had made a quick motor trip from NewYork to Azurecrest. The Phantom absorbed these bits of news withinterest, but all the time he was studying the characteristic gestureswith which Starr emphasized his statements. Once before, whilestanding in the Thelma Theater, it struck him that there was somethingfamiliar about them, and the same impression came to him now. He wassearching his memory for half-forgotten facts when Starr suddenlyturned round and faced him.
"Surprised?" he inquired, and his smile exposed two rows of flashinglywhite teeth.
"A little, at first, but I think I understand it all now," was ThePhantom's nonchalant reply. Then, of a sudden, his figure stiffened.Starr had delivered another of his oddly expressive gestures, and ithad started another train of recollections in The Phantom's mind."Starr," he added impulsively, "you were once a member of myorganization."
"Only a very humble one," admitted Starr, "and it was years back, soit's no wonder you didn't recognize me at first. In those days youscarcely noticed me, but I was watching and studying you all the time.There were a lot of melodramatic notions in my head, and The GrayPhantom was my hero. I dreamed of some day eclipsing his achievements,and I think I have succeeded. You see, the Thelma Theater, for all thefun I got out of the experiment, was only a cover for my other andmore fascinating activities."
"My first impression was correct, then," murmured The Phantom,addressing himself rather than Starr. "I suspected Mr. Shei was aformer follower of mine and had learned his methods from me, andthat's why I decided to defeat his purpose and break up hisorganization. Now I'm doubly glad that I took up the cudgels againstyou, Starr."
"Glad?" A puzzled frown crossed Starr's face. "You are a beaten man,defeated by a once insignificant pupil of yours. Why should you beglad?"
"Defeated?" The Phantom threw back his head and smiled. "Not just yet,Starr. The Gray Phantom doesn't even know the meaning of the word.Before I drop out of this game you and your crowd will be in jail."
A cloud gathered on Starr's forehead. "You are a curious character. Ihave beaten you at every turn. I have you so completely cornered thatyou can't even raise your pistol against me without endangering thelife of a certain person whom you are deeply interested in. By theway, Slade has bungled this situation. He tells me that you havekidnaped Doctor Tagala and refuse to tell where he is hidden."
"He has told you the exact facts. You will never see Tagala againuntil I release him, and that I won't do until Miss Hardwick has beenfreed and the antidote turned over to me."
Starr's lip curled scornfully. "As I said, Slade has bungled thesituation. He doesn't seem to understand what kind of persuasion toexert on a man like you. I think I can suggest an improvement. MissHardwick, as I think you know, received a dose of datura poisoncalculated to produce death within seven days. What is the matter?" headded quickly as The Phantom winced and touched his left shoulder."Ah! You have been wounded!"
"Only a scratch," said The Phantom coolly, despite the sharp twingesthat now and then shot through the injured shoulder. "What about MissHardwick?"
"As I said, the injection she received was calculated to kill withinseven days. As you know, if you read the accounts of Virginia Darrow'sdeath, the dose can be so adjusted as to produce death in a muchshorter time--say fifteen minutes or half an hour. Doctor Tagala, whois a very fascinating gentleman, explained the method to me verycarefully."
"I don't quite see----" began The Phantom, an uneasy flicker in hiseyes; but Starr had already turned to his lieutenant.
"Slade," he crisply commanded, "in one of the drawers of the desk inthe laboratory you will find several bottles of datura poison. Bringme one of those marked 'Series A.' Fetch a hypodermic syringe, too,and be quick about it."
Slade withdrew. A horrifying suspicion was entering The Phantom'smind. Starr's methods were subtler and far more frightful than hissubordinate's.
"You look faint," observed Starr with a glance at The Phantom's face.A trace of sarcasm edged his words. "I'm afraid the wound is verypainful. Too bad Doctor Tagala isn't here to treat it."
The Phantom was about to reply, but just then Slade returned andhanded his superior a syringe and a small bottle containing a darkliquid. Starr studied the label for a moment.
"Correct," he murmured. "It's fortunate Doctor Tagala taught me how touse a syringe. In a few moments Miss Hardwick will have received asecond dose of datura poison--one that will kill her inside half anhour unless Doctor Tagala should administer the restorative in themeantime."
A cry broke from The Phantom's lips. The severe pain in the shoulder,together with the terrifying realization that had just flashed throughhis mind, made him suddenly dizzy. He leaned weakly against the wall.In the same instant Starr, quick to seize the opportunity, wrenchedthe pistol from his hand.
"This is ever so much better," he murmured elatedly. "I think you willbe willing to produce Doctor Tagala as soon as I have injected thesecond dose of poison into Miss Hardwick's veins. Hold him, Slade,till I come back."
He instructed one of the other men to follow him and hurried away, buthis words kept dinning in The Phantom's consciousness. He made astrong effort to fight down the treacherous weakness that was stealingover him. He wondered why his eyes saw nothing but whirling specks andwhy his knees shook so. The loss of blood, he reflected, must haveweakened him more than he had realized. Suddenly everything wentblack, and with a despairing moan he sank to the floor.
He heard Slade's derisive laugh, but it had an unreal and far-awaysound.
"Dead to the world," muttered Slade, and The Phantom was dimlyconscious that someone was bending over him. "Well, I hope for thegirl's sake that he comes to before the half hour is up."