dominate Bruce's thoughts. His watch showed ten minutes of twelve.
He tiptoed up the stairs. The doors of the rooms occupied by the other men were closed. All was silent.
Probably they were already asleep.
In the darkness, Bruce found his automatic and his flashlight. He crept downstairs and, with both guns pocketed, slipped from the house.
He moved noiselessly along the path. In the woods he used the flashlight. This was his own expedition. A man was expected at the old ruin by midnight - a man who was supposed to suspect nothing. He would appear as that man. He would surprise the two fiends who waited. If necessary, he would shoot them without mercy. That would bring matters to a definite conclusion.
With the criminals out of the way, he could probably find the stolen insignia. If not, he and Major Weston could keep the appointment the next week and explain matters.
THE merits of his plan pleased Bruce when he reached the abandoned lane. His scheme seemed far superior to the one which The Shadow had evolved. To-morrow, Chefano and his powerful brute might both be gone. Get them to-night! It was his privilege, for they had done him an evil turn.
Bruce turned out his flashlight when he saw the open gate. The trap was set, and he would turn it against his enemies. He made as little noise as possible along the path.
He came beneath the towering corner of the ruin, a portion of the old house which had been obscured by trees when he had viewed the building from Rocky Summit.
Bruce took the path to the far side of the building. He stopped at the foot of stone steps. Below him was an open door, with a dimly lighted passageway. This was the lure for the fifth man! It was the trap that had ensnared four unsuspecting victims!
Bruce drew both guns from his pocket. He stepped cautiously into the passageway. The light was brighter at the end. The close-set walls were of solid stone. No danger here. He moved quietly to the end of the passage. Before coming into the light, he turned and looked back toward the entrance.
The steps seemed shadowy and black, as though some one was concealed there. Duncan went back cautiously. He thought he detected motion in the gloom. But he found the steps vacant.
Annoyed by his imagination, Duncan silently resumed his course and reached the end of the passage again. He looked back and saw the same shadowy depths. He decided that the blackness was due to the dimness of the light.
There was a doorway at the end of the passage - a doorway to the right. The door was open; it extended into the passage, against the wall in front of Bruce Duncan.
The young man watched the door suspiciously, then moved to the end of the passage and turned to the right. He stopped short, his hands behind his hips, concealing the automatics.
A man was seated at the table. He turned as he heard Duncan's approach. It was Bernardo Chefano.
'Good evening,' said Chefano in a suave voice. His lips twisted in a slight smile. 'You are Major Weston?'
'Yes,' replied Bruce.
'Come in,' said Chefano cordially.
Duncan waited. He had the advantage here. From his position he could command both the room and the passage to the outside. He was standing in semidarkness. Chefano could not see the position of his hands. Bruce looked about the room. He wondered where the terrible ape-faced creature was.
'What is the matter?' questioned Chefano smoothly. 'I have been expecting you, major. I suppose you expected to find my uncle, Prince Samanov.' The criminal's face took on a saddened expression. 'I am sorry to inform you, major. My uncle is dead.'
'Dead?' echoed Bruce. He knew that Chefano had not recognized him as the man who had been attacked by the ape-faced creature. He had not expected to be recognized.
'Dead,' repeated Chefano. 'Killed in battle, a martyr to our cause. Step inside, major. I have waited long to meet you.'
THE invitation was the needed clue. Bruce knew the method now; he knew where the ape-man was!
Chefano desired Bruce to step across the threshold, because the monster was in the room - in one of the near corners - waiting to spring!
In which corner? Ah, Chefano had betrayed himself! For one instant, his eyes had moved to Duncan's right. His lips had twisted momentarily into a distorted shape. He was restraining the creature until the proper moment.
With one action, Bruce Duncan stepped suddenly into the room. With his left hand he raised an automatic to cover Chefano, who seemed obviously without a weapon. At the same instant, he looked to the right and pointed his other gun toward the corner. There was the monster - six feet away - ready for a spring.
Bruce Duncan's finger was on the trigger, but he did not press it. The ape-faced creature had more intelligence than Bruce had supposed. The sight of the revolver had curbed it. Back into the corner it sank, and its prompt action saved its life.
Bruce was master of the situation. He could wait. He laughed. Should he reveal his identity or play the part of Weston? Bruce decided on the latter course.
'I suspected this,' he declared. 'The second message with the seal of Prince Samanov - I detected the imitation. Come eight days early, eh? What reason for the change? Had it been later, I might have suspected nothing.'
From his position Bruce could easily observe both Chefano and the ape-man. The former, his lips twisted venomously, sat with upraised hands. The monster still cowered in the corner.
'A creature here, to kill me,' continued Bruce. 'A monster - not even human. It shall die. You' - he glanced momentarily toward Chefano - 'shall live - for a while. I will learn the truth of this deception -
from your ugly lips!'
The drama had gone far enough. Bruce knew that he must make good his boast. It was right that he should kill the ape-man, the horrible monster that was responsible for at least four deaths. His own safety depended upon immediate action. The effect of the ape-man's death would awe Chefano; from then on, Bruce could deal with a single, helpless foe.
HE threw one last glance at Chefano. The man's distorted lips had formed a brutal smile. There was a sudden noise from behind. Two iron hands gripped Bruce Duncan's wrists, and his arms were twisted toward the floor. The revolver slipped from his left hand; the automatic in his right roared as he pulled the trigger. The bullets ricocheted from the stone floor. The ape-faced monster was unharmed.
The creature was upon Bruce, but at Chefano's hissing whistle it withdrew. The twisted lips spat a command, and the monster slunk back to its corner.
Its assistance was not needed. The man who had fallen upon Bruce Duncan from behind had caught him unawares. He lay helpless, upon his back, his eyes staring toward the doorway which he had entered.
The door was partway open now, and Bruce realized his mistake. Its hinges were at the opposite side. It was the entrance to a room at the end of the passage.
The half-opened door seemed to cast a heavy shadow in the passage. The door was swaying slightly, and the shadow seemed to move with it, then recede along the passageway. Chefano had taken the lantern from the wire and was bringing it closer.
'Put it back,' ordered the man who was holding Duncan. 'We don't need it.'
'I wanted to see his face, close to,' said Chefano. 'You caught him right, Frenchy.'
'I'm good at that,' admitted Frenchy. 'The trouble was the door. I had to be slow when I opened it. I was afraid the hinges would squeak.'
Duncan became limp as he ceased his last attempt to struggle. Frenchy was sitting on his body, pinning him so cleverly that he could scarcely move.
'What are you going to do with him?' asked Frenchy. 'Let Jupe finish him?'
The ape-faced creature snarled at the mention of its name.
'No,' said Chefano. His lips had become hideous in their expression. 'No.'
'Why not?'
'Because it's too good for him. The others came quietly. They died quickly. He created trouble. Let him think about it. He shall die of his own accord.'
