plans from his own lips. He was in my power. I took his place.”
“Pesano—”
Zelva was staring at the dead man on the floor.
“Pesano was to meet Desmond,” said The Shadow, quietly. “He met me. We talked. He decided that
he, too, could play the double cross, after he heard my promises.”
Zelva understood. This amazing man had weaned away Pesano, so that he would have help when he
reached the yacht. Doubtless it had been an offer of money, should they succeed in turning the tables.
“Your schemes are ended, Zelva,” said The Shadow, in his low tone. “You captured this yacht with your
rumrunning ship. You came to it and committed piracy. Now you shall lose your ill-gotten gains.”
Zelva felt uneasy as he listened. Nevertheless, he was artful despite the changed situation. He had cards
to play and he smiled as he delivered them.
“You think that you have captured me?” Zelva's voice was sneering. “You are in a trap, that is all. Kill
me. Then try to leave. My crew commands this ship. My other boat is here. You are helpless.”
“That will not avail you when you are dead.”
The calm monotone of The Shadow's voice made Zelva shudder. Legira's face lighted in elation.
“I have but to call”—Zelva's tone was defiant—“and you are lost -”
“Try to call.”
The Shadow's voice quelled the man. He realized that pistol shots would summon no one on this ship.
Those had been expected by the crew.
ZELVA realized that his cause was fading. He knew that The Shadow, through his indomitable skill, held
the upper hand. Yet he sensed a chance for terms.
“What do you wish?” he asked.
“Leave this ship,” ordered The Shadow. “Send back its rightful crew. Go your way—and see to it that
you never cross my path.”
“The money?”
“It belongs to Legira.”
Zelva smiled cunningly.
“I do not take your terms,” he said. “Do what you wish. But remember”—he turned to
Legira—“remember that if I die—even if you escape—those men of yours on the other ship—”
The inference was plain. The crew of the yacht Santander were prisoners. They would surely die; for The
Shadow and Legira could hope for nothing more than escape by the small boat.
Legira's eyes blinked. He was matching wealth with lives. Schemer though he was, Legira was honest to
those who served him.
“You shall have part of the money,” he said, “if you will release the crew.”
“How much?”
“That we shall decide.”
The men had reached an impasse. They stared at each other in disaccord. The Shadow watched. He
knew that time was waning. Dangers here increased as time went on.
“Here are the terms, Zelva,” he declared. “Leave this ship. Release the crew. The Cordova will sail to
Santander. You will come there also, to receive the share that Legira offers you.”
“One half,” said Legira.
“The money goes to Santander?” questioned Zelva, shrewdly.
“Yes,” replied The Shadow.
“How?” questioned Zelva.
“In the custody of its rightful owner,” announced The Shadow. “Legira will take it on this ship.”
