XXVII
WHEN THE LIGHTS WENT OUT
"Oh-h-h!" Lotus' gasp of amazement was well faked. "Why, Cho-San, unlessyou're joking you're insane to think of such a thing! This isn't DonWinslow--it's _Andre_! I know because I--I love him! Even you, Cho-San,must admit a woman can recognize the man she loves."
For a moment the Scorpion leader stood snarling like a tiger that hadmissed its kill. His lips writhed back and strange animal sounds camethrough his bared yellow teeth.
"Ar-r-rgh! So!" he growled. "We shall see. We shall see if you haveturned traitor to Scorpia, my little Lotus. I know one way to answerboth questions. Stand aside!"
Forcing her back with a sweep of his loglike arm, Cho-San erupted intosing-song Chinese commands. While he was still speaking, the two hatchetmen leaped to obey.
Red Pennington was lifted from the table, carried to a spot beneath thenearest stone arch, and held there upright, while Cho-San advanced uponhim with the tread of a big jungle cat. Seizing Red's bound wrists, theChinese jerked them toward a loop of wire which hung down from thearch's apex.
"Great guns, Lotus!" whispered Don, his lips barely moving. "We've gotto do something quick. They're going to hang Red up by thethumbs--torture him before our eyes!"
The girl nodded silently. Her face was dead white, her lips a thinpurple line. With Don at her side, she made for the leering Scorpionleader.
"Don't, Cho-San!" she exclaimed in a low, tragic voice. "If you are sucha fiend that you must torture somebody, take me! I could stand it betterthan watching...."
"_Oo-oo-oonh!_"
The moan of agony was wrung from Red's lips, as Cho-San threw his weighton the pulley rope. The stocky lieutenant now hung by his thumbs fromthe wire loop which had cut through skin and tissue.
Only Lotus' warning nudge kept Don from throwing himself then and thereupon the slant-eyed devil who was leaning on that rope. With a supremeeffort he controlled himself.
Suzette, he recalled, had mentioned a plan of rescue which Lotus wouldattempt when the chance came. Until then he must play the game!
Lotus, he noticed, had moved over to the nearest wall. She leanedagainst it in a pathetic huddle, her hands covering her face. Soconvincing was her pose of despair that Don wondered if it were actingat all.
Red anger again clouded his brain. His hand crept to the lapel of hisdinner jacket within quick reach of the automatic beneath his armpit.
"I advise you to keep your hand away from your weapon, my friend!" cameCho-San's ugly growl. "Back there in the shadows stands one of mypersonal bodyguards, with a Thompson submachine gun aimed at yourmidriff. At the first signal from me--he will make a bloody rag of yourshirt front. Ah-ha! You see him now?"
Slowly Don's narrowed gaze made out the shadowy figure behind anunlighted archway. His hand lifted to cover a well-faked yawn.
"Of course I see him!" he murmured lazily. "But why all the dramatics,Cho-San? So far the fun you promised has been frightfully tiresome. I'veheard men groaning in pain before in my life, you know. Really, thisisn't even interesting...."
"It will be, my dear Borg-Winslow!" spat the Chinese. "It will be mostinteresting when Lieutenant Pennington starts to tell us--betweengroans--just which your name really is! And if this simplethumb-stretcher doesn't work, I have a new electrical machine whichtears the brain apart, bit by bit. Perhaps you would like me to give youa taste of that, when I am finished with your friend?"
With a ghastly chuckle, Cho-San turned back to his work. The pulley ropetightened. From Red's anguished throat burst another pitiful moan.
At that instant the huge room was plunged in darkness. There was ascuffle of feet, two hard, thudding blows--the sound of one or morefalling bodies.
A girl's scream rang out, followed by Cho-San's bass bellow. Then camesilence, more stifling than the thick darkness of the vault.
* * * * *
In contrast to the gruesome quiet of Cho-San's dark torture room, loudargument resounded in the brightly lighted office of the localIntelligence Bureau. Michael Splendor, just arrived from the airport totake charge of operations, was laying down the law to the chief of theSan Francisco operatives.
"It's all ye're fault, Hammond!" he roared, pounding the desk with anenormous hairy fist. "Ye should have seen the game was up when Cho-Sanbutted in on the party and spirited Don Winslow away in his big blackcar! Ye should have had a squad of expert men ready to shadow him,instead of leavin' it to a young officer who's not trained to the work.Now, repeat if ye will, the story of that taxi driver who said he'd beenhired to follow Cho-San's limousine!"
"I know he's the one who drove Pennington, because we took his licensenumber," Hammond stated flatly. "His name's Grogan, and he seems to beon the level. He says they lost Cho-San's limousine somewhere inChinatown. They followed another by mistake and it brought them up infront of Cho-San's curio shop. Pennington told Grogan to stop and waitwhile he took a look at the place. While the lieutenant was gone, twotough eggs from the second car shoved pistols through Grogan's windowand told him to drive on. Grogan had no choice but to obey. He came backhere to his regular stand, and we nabbed him for questioning. That'sall!"
"And isn't it enough to persuade ye that both Pennington and CommanderWinslow are in deadly peril?" retorted Splendor bitterly. "Why did yehave to wait till I arrived, before raidin' Cho-San's layout? Get busy,now, call up all your reserves--every fightin' man ye can deputize forthe job. What's holdin' ye?"
"Nothing, sir, now that you've ordered it!" replied Hammond, his honestface flushing red. "Of course you're aware we'll need to find evidenceof lawless activities in order to justify a raid. Cho-San has bothwealth and influence to fight criminal charges in any court!"
"And what of that?" the lion-maned cripple roared back. "By this timeDon Winslow and Pennington will have found enough evidence to hang thatyellow fiend higher than Haman. Away with ye, Hammond! Collect your men,and be sure that one of them is husky enough to carry me on his back.Legs or no legs, I'll lead this raid if it's me last act!"
Without a word Hammond departed, swept from the room by the blast ofSplendor's fierce energy. As the door closed behind him another openedto admit Mercedes Colby still in her flying togs.
"I heard that last, Mr. Splendor!" she cried, coming quickly to thecripple's chair. "No wonder Hammond calls you 'the old Lion'! But youwere joking, weren't you, about leading this raid on Cho-San's place?"
"Faith, and why should I joke about that?" snorted the veteranIntelligence officer. "Have I been in a jokin' mood since we took offfrom Haiti this mornin'? At least I can shoot with the best of Hammond'sdeputies, and that's all I ask a chance to do. But what about the thingI sent ye to find out, child? Is Count Borg well guarded in that roomHammond assigned him to?"
"_Too_ well guarded, if you take the Count's word for it," repliedMercedes with a smile. "Mr. Hammond assigned a couple of his bestdetectives, armed to the teeth, to guard the doors. Of course theydidn't arm Count Borg because he's a prisoner, at least, technically.But I don't think any Scorpion gang is going to kidnap him tonight."
"I hope not, my dear," sighed Splendor, wagging his gray maned head."But if Cho-San has pierced Don Winslow's disguise, as I fear he hasdone, things may happen too fast for us to prevent..."
"_Oh-h-h! The lights!_"
Mercedes' gasp cut through a pitch black room. Without warning everylight had gone out, not only in the office building but in the streetoutside.
* * * * *
In a darkness just as absolute, Don Winslow plunged blindly forward,bearing Red's helpless weight. Lotus' scream had given him hisdirection. If only he didn't bump into a pillar or a prowling hatchetman, he'd make it to where she waited!
Suddenly a small, firm hand clutched his arm. Without question he obeyedits pressure, felt himself being guided past an unseen obstruction.
The next instant a cool d
raught struck his face. The guiding hand gavehis arm one quick, farewell squeeze. Somewhere behind him sounded theclick of a closing panel.
The darkness was as thick as ever, but now he sensed that he was nolonger in the vaulted torture room. That cool current of air suggested atunnel or corridor connecting with the world above ground.
Luckily he had remembered to take a small pocket torch when he went downto dinner that evening. Its white beam now showed up the rough stonewalls of a passageway, like the one leading from the elevator. But thatwas not all.
Within arm's reach stood the French maid, Suzette, her finger to herlips in silent warning. As Don met her eyes, she beckoned urgently andturned to vanish in the black shadows.
When the flashlight found her again Suzette was several yards up thetunnel, running like a boy. Don followed somewhat more slowly, trying tokeep Red's head from bumping the low, timbered roof. He was breathingheavily when he finally overtook the French-woman.
"We mus' be ver' quick, Commander!" she whispered, halting at a placewhere the passageway branched. "Your poor friend, is he too badly hurtto walk?"
"Not so's you'd notice it, Miss!" came Red's husky answer. "Just getthese ropes off my hands and ankles, and I'll manage to toddle. Got aknife, Skipper?"
Don's penknife was already out, sawing at the brutally tight cords.
"This is easier than getting that loop of wire off your thumbs in thedark, shipmate!" he panted. "I was afraid those two cat-eyed hatchet menwould come back at me before I got you clear."
"Not a chance!" grinned Red Pennington rubbing his blood smeared wrists."You hit 'em so hard they couldn't even crawl away, Skipper. You musthave judged their positions just right."
"_Allons donc, Messieurs!_ We waste time!" cut in Suzette's sharpwhisper. "We are not out of the danger yet. This left-handpassage--come! And run as if the devil-dog Marines were after you!"