Queen of the Flaming Diamond Part 9

"This guy better know what he's doing." Puffy clutched the chair ahead and held on grimly. "Or we'll crack up like a broken match against that wall."

Drake was silent. A murmur of anxious voices arose about them. They still rolled swiftly toward the cliff. Lardner seemed to make no attempt to cut speed. The plane took the b.u.mp at the edge of the lake, and then Drake saw the cavern ahead. It was huge and black, cut at an angle in the surface of the rock. A sudden blur of rock walls and they were in the darkness of the cave. The plane settled back roughly on its shock absorbers and stopped. Lights flashed on within the cabin.

George Lardner pushed through the small communication door between the pilot's cabin and the waiting gangsters. As he came, he jerked the helmet and goggles from his eyes. A hard smile on his heavy face left no doubt as to his frame of mind.

"h.e.l.lo, Drake," the mouth a mask of expressionless hate. "I take my hat off to you. Never gave Cinderella Drake credit for being anything but a whiskey mill."

Jim stood up slowly, knowing these minutes might be his last. Fear was in his heart. Not for himself, but for the doom that faced Sylvia Fanton unless she could be warned of Lardner's coming. There was no doubt in Jim Drake's mind that this frozen valley was the home of the fox people and their queen.

Lardner wasn't the soft night club owner now. The man was short and stocky, but with bulging arms that were tensed for action. The dark face was filled with devilish purpose.

"I'd like to know why we weren't thrown out of the plane last night with the others?" Drake said quietly.

"Oh! That?" Lardner chuckled. "I knew you were headed toward this valley and I thought you'd appreciate the lift."

"For your information," Drake answered coolly, "we took the plane for Winnipeg. Where we are now I haven't the slightest idea."

George Lardner started toward the outer door. He whipped around savagely, his face twisted into a hateful grimace.

"All right, play boy," he snapped. "You asked for it. Now it's my turn. I know you helped Sylvia Fanton to escape. I know you had a part in stealing the diamond, and I also know you are in love with the girl. That, if you'll have the truth, is why you are with us now."

A hissing sigh escaped Puffy Adams' lips. He was beginning to understand now why Lardner had not shot them both long ago.

"So I am to act as decoy," Drake said. "If you think I'll let you torture that girl, you're a madman."

Lardner ignored him. He pushed the outer door of the cabin open and dropped heavily to the cave floor.

"Unpack your stuff, boys," he ordered crisply. "And keep an eye on our guests. I want them to be safe and comfortable."

The gangsters closed in, and some of them started for the baggage compartment.

A ring of steel closed about the pair.

"Out, quick," one of the plug uglies mumbled. "And don't try to get away."

To Drake's surprise the cave was warm, as though heated from some vast, hidden source of fire. Lardner was well ahead of them, going cautiously down the long tunnel. A flash-light sent its beam ahead of his outstretched hand. The baggage was handed down quickly and tommy guns came into sight from the instrument cases. They were smoothly polished and glistened under the dull light of lanterns. They followed Lardner slowly down the vast hall that led under the lip of the mountain. It was warmer and more humid now.

"The boss knows what he's doing," a voice said behind Drake. "These fox people can't do us any harm during the day. By night we'll be ready to blast them down in short order."

Unable to speak to Puffy, Drake was thinking plenty. If they went on to wherever the tunnel led them, it would be too late to face Lardner with any show of force. Drake knew that Sylvia Fanton would be caught off guard if she were here. Could he raise some sort of alarm?

The man at his side seemed a trifle sleepy and disinterested in what was going on. Making sure the man's gun was pointed away where he wouldn't jerk the trigger, Drake lifted an arm high, pointing toward the dark roof of the cave. Pretending fright, he shouted:

"Oh my G.o.d! Look!"

Before Lardner could control them, two men had raised their guns and sent salvos of lead screaming into the darkness. Lardner's voice, ahead in the shaft, shattered the silence that followed with wild oaths.

"Who the h.e.l.l did that?" He stormed back toward Drake, but Jim was well satisfied with what he had done. The sound would carry for miles into the base of the mountain. If Sylvia or her people were here....

From far down the shaft a faint bark echoed clearly. It was the bark of a fox, followed in quick succession by more of the same sounds.

George Lardner faced him, neck red and arms akimbo.

"You're getting too d.a.m.ned clever for your own good," he shouted. "I oughta' knock some of the c.o.c.kiness out of you."

Drake had a slow temper. But behind the Cinderella Drake who had soused himself so thoroughly in Lardner's whiskey still lurked the keen eyed air patrol cadet who had only six months ago put his body through every air battle on the west coast. Some of the old strength and nerve were coming back now. Coming with a rush of hot blood to his head.

Puffy Adams had sworn he'd stick by Drake until that spirit returned.

Now, ringed in by steel death, Adams' face lighted with interest. Yet, he realized that Drake had small chance against these b.u.ms.

The cave was dead silent again. Lardner breathed hard, crouched like an oversized wrestler about to spring.

Drake's face was suddenly cold, emotionless.

"If your men weren't ready to shoot me down the minute I move," he said slowly, "I'd pound you within an inch of your rotten life."

Lardner's face lighted slowly and a sardonic grin crossed his face.

"Talk big, play boy," he urged. "I don't need lead to put you out of the way."

Drake's slim body shot forward with the suddenness of a catapult. His shoulders were low as they struck Lardner's thick belly. Caught off guard, Lardner's heavy, ape arms twisted about Jim's waist and he started to crush Drake's body against his own. With a quick twist Drake was loose, dodging backward as a light left caught Lardner on the chest. Lardner jumped in quickly, puffing hard. His right arm swept out and brought blood to Drake's nose.

The slim air cadet shook his head, feeling the sting on his face. He brushed an arm across his nose, and felt warm blood on his fingers.

This time Drake went in low, caught Lardner with his left hand just above the belt. The big man bent over with a grunt as Drake's right climbed under his chin like a looping Spitfire. Jim Drake's right fist went home with the entire impact of his shoulder behind it. He felt a twinge of pain shoot through his arm as Lardner's head swept backward with a jerk. The fat man stumbled and sat down abruptly. He looked surprised and frightened, shaking his head back and forth like an angry bull.

"You dirty...." Lardner didn't attempt to rise. His face was flaming red. "Shoot the legs out from under him."

A tommy came up swiftly, trained on Drake.

"Hold it!" A harsh, almost frightened voice came from the shadows by the wall.

Puffy Adams stood, back to the granite, sweeping a tommy gun around on the gang of men. His trigger finger was poised easily, the gun slung carelessly in the curve of his arm. His voice, frightened for Drake, became cool as he saw the last gun drop toward the floor.

"One shot," he said, "and I'll poke enough lead into your boss to keep you rats from ever flying anywhere again."

Drake was at his side now.

"How did you manage it?" he whispered.

"Black-jack," Puffy grinned. "They were interested in you. It wasn't hard."