BIG TOM RESISTS
A SPEEDING coupe came whirling along a broad avenue of Seaview City. A policeman dashed into its path. The car swerved right, swung on two wheels, and narrowly missed the curb as it turned into a side street.
The officer raised his gun to fire. Two shots flashed from the coupe. The policeman fell, but the coupe kept on. Other men in uniform dashed to the rescue. A commandeered car took up the pursuit.
Rufus Cruikshank, mayor of Seaview City, was the man in that coupe. He had leaped into the car — one of his own vehicles — at the entrance to the garage behind his home.
Now, he was trapped. Even with the handy automatic that he had kept in the door pocket of the car, he could not hope to overcome those who were on his trail. Quick action was a method which Chief Yates had established among the resort police. With emergency orders to stop and pursue every suspicious car, the entire force was out tonight.
Had Wheels Bryant invoked the personality of Rufus Cruikshank, he might have been able to spread a bluff. But he hesitated to attempt it. He knew that Yates was adamant. With the force, the chief was supreme.
The narrow street, along which Wheels Bryant was fleeing, led directly to the board walk. That placed him in a trap. As he crossed another avenue, new police sprang into view. As the coupe shot toward the end of the street, other officers dashed down from the board walk.
The coupe stopped. The converging police would soon have their man, if he hesitated. But Wheels dashed out of the car and into the entrance of the club Catalina. There he paused long enough to shoot down one policeman who was closer than all the others. Wheels went up the stairs in long strides.
An attendant stood in surprise as he recognized the features of Rufus Cruikshank. The fleeing mayor shoved him aside, and hurried into Big Tom’s. Both doors were open, for this place was running without molestation. But now, consternation reigned; for this was to be the last night.
Big Tom had not expected a raid; hence he stared wild-eyed when he saw the mayor burst in. Attendants who would have stopped any other intruder sank back, aghast.
Big Tom’s amazement increased when he found Rufus Cruikshank gripping him by the arm. Then a long gasp came from his fat face when he heard the voice of Wheels Bryant speaking.
“The cops!” growled Wheels. “They are after me. Stop them! Quick!”
Big Tom could scarcely move. He could not believe his senses. Then he realized that whether the order came from Wheels or the mayor, it was one and the same. Wheels Bryant bossed Big Tom Bagshawe. Rufus Cruikshank bossed Seaview City.
“Get to the door!” thundered Big Tom. “Stop whoever tries to get up! That goes for everybody!”
The order was none too soon. As attendants started to obey, pulling revolvers from beneath their uniforms, the first of the invading policemen burst into view.
WHEELS BRYANT snarled. He fired a shot at the invader. The policeman fell. Big Tom Bagshawe needed no further word. He knew now that Wheels Bryant and Rufus Cruikshank were one and the same. Urged by Cruikshank, he unlocked the door of the little office.
The two crooks were inside the room, the door closed behind them. Big Tom threw the lock. He stood, with revolver in hand. Wheels Bryant was at the safe. He had it open. Seizing a bag in the corner, he began to pile money into it.
“Fooled you, eh?” he questioned. “You never figured that Wheels Bryant was Rufus Cruikshank, did you? Well, the racket’s ended, now — just as I was going to pull the biggest game of my life!”
The staccato barks of revolvers were sounding outside. Big Tom’s men — hardened gangsters under their attendants’ uniforms — had opened the fight.
“Going to kidnap Rufus Cruikshank,” continued Wheels. “Great idea, eh? None of the boys would have been wise until they saw Rufus himself, stepping on the boat. That would have knocked Hooks Borglund cold!”
“Hooks?” asked Big Tom breathlessly. “Where is he?”
“Dead,” informed Wheels Bryant, packing more money away. “That’s the trouble. He got bumped. That started the trouble up my way. Say” — Wheels suddenly changed the subject — “I guess those gorillas can’t hold out much longer.”
“How many police are fighting them?” asked Big Tom.
“The whole force,” responded Cruikshank.
Big Tom stood aghast. He knew now that his men must fight. There could be no other escape. Gangsters, all of them, they would try to make a break. That would be impossible now. The roar of revolver shots now sounded like a cannonade.
“Listen, Tom” — Wheels Bryant was speaking coldly — “I’m going to scram — with this.”
He pointed to the bag. It was filled with gold and bills — a million in new loot, that had been deposited in Big Tom’s keeping.
“How about me?” questioned Big Tom.
“You’re staying right here,” answered Wheels. “You’re all right.”
“Yeah? Staying here — to take a rap — like Carpenter? Staying here — to be double-crossed?”
“Not that, Tom. You had a mess here before. It wasn’t your fault. Neither is this one. I ran in here — that’s all. I made a mysterious getaway. That’s your story. There’s no connection between you and me.”
Big Tom pondered. He did not know that Carpenter had told his story; that his own connection with the crime kings was known.
“If you scram,” declared Wheels, “they’ll follow us, sure. They’ll know it’s phony. But if you stay, keep mum and all that — they won’t know anything. You’ll get your split later.”
“All right,” said Big Tom reluctantly.
He went to the desk and turned a key in the lock just above the drawer. Wheels Bryant pressed the broad flat top. It slid back mechanically, to reveal an opening four feet square.
Wheels Bryant pressed a lever. A dull, mechanical sound was heard. Wheels waited, listening to another noise. The gunfire had ended. Men were pounding at the door to the office!
THE mechanical noise ended. The top of a little one-man elevator had reached the bottom of the desk, level with the floor. Wheels Bryant dropped the bag into the opening. He climbed into the desk, and pressed the lever.
His form, visible from the waist up, began to move downward. Wheels caught the edge of the desk top. It slid back and covered the shaft as he disappeared.
The door of the office was crashing. Big Tom stood trembling. Then, realizing that he would not have time to escape even if he wished, he leaped to the desk and fumbled with the key.
Down came the door. Police Chief Yates stood covering Big Tom Bagshawe with an automatic.
“Put them up!” he yelled.
Big Tom raised his hands, leaving the key in the lock. Chief Yates strode into the office.
“Where’s Bryant?” he demanded.
“Bryant?” questioned Big Tom.
“Mayor Cruikshank,” corrected Yates sarcastically.
“He’s not in here,” disclaimed Big Tom, in a wondering tone. “I’ve been in here alone—”
“No hokum,” insisted the police chief. “We’ve got you, Bagshawe. We know everything. Carpenter’s here in town. He spilled the story.”
A hunted look came over Big Tom’s face. Carpenter! Wheels had said nothing about him!
Slowly, the gambler knew new amazement. He had been double-crossed by Wheels Bryant! He was to be the goat!
He slumped back in his chair. Yates laughed. So did another police officer who had entered. But now the police chief was active. He was ordering men to search this office.
“We saw Bryant cut in here,” growled Yates. “Get him, men. He can’t be far. You know whom you’re after. The crook that called himself Rufus Cruikshank. Our honorable mayor!”
The search took less than two minutes. It was obvious that the room was empty. In the hurried, tense inspection, the police were forgetful of Big Tom. They were expecting to see Wheels Bryant pop out of some corner, armed.
Thus it was that Big Tom Bagshawe made his break. He knew that he was trapped; that his part in crime would soon be known. He had been double-crossed. Wheels Bryant had gone with the swag. Big Tom’s only hope was escape.
The picture of dejection, he eluded watchfulness. Suddenly, his big form came to life. Bagshawe leaped to his feet, pulling a revolver from his pocket. He lunged toward the door, turning to fire at the officers. To a man, they ducked.
A policeman, entering the office, blocked the gambler’s path. Big Tom shot at him. The officer fell. But Police Chief Yates, who had dropped behind the desk, came up to aid. Big Tom, framed in the doorway, was a perfect target. The automatic went off. The huge gambling king crashed to the floor.
Chief Yates sank into the chair behind the desk. Coldly, he looked at the distant form of Big Tom Bagshawe. Others were bending over the gambling king.
“He’s dead,” came the information.
“Just as well,” said Yates.
The police chief pressed his hand against the desk. His thumb encountered the key that Big Tom had left there. Yates turned it in the lock, wondering its purpose. He leaned his hands upon the edge of the desk while he peered over to see if there was a drawer upon the other side.
The flat top slid suddenly, and the police chief was nearly precipitated into the hollow space. He found himself staring down into a black shaft. “Say!” he shouted. “This is the way Wheels Bryant went! Down through here!”
EAGER men were staring into the hole. Yates pressed the lever. The sound of the rising elevator was heard. The policemen exchanged surprised glances as they heard the noise.
“But how” — one asked — “say — the Club Catalina is right under here — how does that work out? It doesn’t go through the middle of the dance floor right—”
Chief Yates uttered a raucous laugh. He had the explanation. He pointed downward, just as the lift came into view.
“Those big pillars!” he shouted. “Thee of them — right in the center of the night club. This goes down the middle one. Down into the cellar! Right through, with five hundred people all around!
“Get in there, one of you fellows. This is the way Wheels Bryant took. Say — chase down and watch under the board walk. That’s the way he’s gone. Send searchers everywhere. Emergency orders are still on!”
Yates watched as one of his men started down the shaft — that ingenious passage, the secret of which had been shared by two men — Wheels Bryant and Big Tom Bagshawe. Through this, Wheels had paid his mysterious visits to and from the meeting room, unseen by any one.
There was another who had used that method also. Until now, he had been the third to know of its existence. The Shadow — watching in the dark — had learned the secret. Through this elevator, he, too, had attended the meetings of the kings of crime!
Men were taking up the chase. Chief Yates knew that his surmise must be correct. Using this exit, Wheels Bryant was on his way to safety. Could they catch him now? Yates set his teeth grimly. They must catch him — the archfoe of justice!
Vainly, the police chief racked his brain. To his thoughts came the voice of the mysterious man who had first warned — months ago; and who had later exposed — this very night.
The Shadow!
Who was he? Where was he? Could he not help again, in this time of need?
Even as Yates wondered, the telephone rang upon Big Tom Bagshawe’s table. Eagerly, Yates seized it. He half expected to hear the tones of that whispered, sinister voice. Instead, he was listening to Graham Hurley, the proprietor of the Hotel Pavilion.
“That you, Chief Yates?”
“Yes.”
“You haven’t nailed Cruikshank — I mean Bryant — yet?”
“No.”
“Well, here’s a tip. Work quick. He may be on the end of the Seaview Pier.”
“The Seaview Pier?”
“Yes. I’m up here at the mayor’s house. This fellow Carpenter has come to. Kind of dazed after the punch he took. He just told us that Shifter Reeves — the other of the crowd — is using that old submarine mechanism as a boathouse. That’s where the dope used to come in. Now it’s ready for the getaway—”
Chief Yates hung up the receiver. He shouted to his nearest men.
“Down to the Seaview Pier. Out on that old shack on the end. That’s where Bryant is! Get him!”
As men scurried away, Yates grabbed the telephone and called the harbor. He talked quickly to the man who answered the call.
“Put the police boat on the job. Call out every ship in the place. Police Chief Yates giving emergency orders. Head for the end of the Seaview Pier. Intercept any boat that tries to leave there!”
Hastening from the office, Yates was grim and determined. The harbor was nearly four miles away. It would take time for the boats to arrive.
HE saw it all now. First the dope king; now the kidnapping racketeers were using that pier; all under Wheels Bryant’s management. The big shot had made a getaway. The pier was only a few blocks distant.
“Get Wheels Bryant!”
That was the police chief’s determined cry as he hurried to lead the attack from land. But a great worry filled his mind. Yates knew that he was dealing with a supercrook. The greatest task lay ahead — and it was doomed to failure on the face of it.
Unless some one was on hand to slow that escape — unless a miracle should happen — both forces would be too late to intercept Wheels Bryant.
Chief Yates groaned as he hurried on. He felt sure that success had eluded him. He was doomed to lose the final triumph.
The police chief’s mind was a strange paradox. What he thought of one moment, he neglected the next.
In this particular moment, he had forgotten the presence of The Shadow!