The Shadow - Serpents Of Siva Part 4

WHEN Harry Vincent called at the Mayland residence, a half hour later, he was admitted by Morton Mayland, in person.

Like Jack Sarmon, Harry made the mistake of thinking the white-haired man was a servant, particularly when Mayland took his hat and coat, to hang them inthe rear hall.

Those tiny eyes, peering from beside the high-bridged nose, made Harry wonder why so shrewd a person could be content with a menial position. He had the answer, when Lucille appeared from upstairs, to introduce her grandfather.

Mayland's manner changed instantly.

"May I ask you, Mr. Vincent?" he inquired, crabbedly, "where you and my granddaughter intend to go this evening?"

Lucille's dark eyes sent a warning look from past Mayland's shoulder.

Harry scarcely noticed the glance. He had expected this question. He produced a pair of tickets to a theater. Mayland inspected them; sourly smiled his approval.

"I am pleased," he told Harry, in cackly tone, "to learn that Lucille has new and lighter interests than those which have previously attracted her. I hope that you shall call here often, Mr. Vincent."

Mayland's reference was a veiled hint regarding the Siva cult; for Lucille had forewarned Harry that her grandfather disapproved of her interest in that group. The old man's tone showed guardedness, as if he hoped that Harry had never heard of the Siva wors.h.i.+pers.

Opening the front door, Mayland bowed; then noted that Harry did not have his hat and coat. With beady eyes, the old man looked toward the cab that awaited Harry and Lucille. He remarked that he would escort Lucille to the cab, and wait there until Harry joined them.

The front door closed. Harry was alone in the shuddery hall. He felt its ominous clutch as he stepped to the deep recess, where his hat and coat hung.

Alone, Harry turned abruptly when his ears caught a stifled click.

Harry saw nothing except blackness; but as he took his hat and coat, a panel moved behind him. A slight draft swept Harry's neck; the chill ran along his spine. Arms bundled in his coat, he swung roundabout.

Harry was unready for attack; at that moment, his position was worse than Sarmon's had been, two nights ago. Fortunately, no thrust came. The panel was shut; blackness alone occupied the corner near it.

Nervously, Harry headed for the front door, letting his coat settle on his shoulders as he went.

Half a minute after Harry's departure, the big door reopened; from outdoors came the throb of the starting taxi. Old Mayland stepped through the portal, closed it, and gave a canny look about the hallway.

Sharp though his tiny eyes were, Mayland saw nothing in that gloom. In shuffly fas.h.i.+on, he ascended the stairs. When the final creak of his footsteps had faded, there was motion in the hall below.

A figure took shape from the blackness, emerged to the center of the hall.

Above cloaked shoulders were eyes that peered from beneath the brim of a slouch hat. They were keener eyes than Mayland's.

Again, Harry's visit to this house had been screened from danger. The lurker in Mayland's mansion was The Shadow!

CHAPTER VII.

THE TEMPLE OF SIVA.

THREE dozen persons were a.s.sembled in a fantastic room, where bra.s.s walls formed the background of a magnificent setting. The place was a veritable product of the Orient, transplanted to New York for the amazement of all who might view it. Chairs and settees were of teakwood. Bra.s.s iota jars stood upon carved tables. Most bizarre of all was the huge bronze statue, raised upon a dais, that overlooked the room.

The statue was an idol of Siva, larger than a life-size figure. Its three heads faced toward the a.s.semblage; and each bronze countenance possessed a half-dozen jeweled eyes. The many outstretched hands held tridents, axes, sheaves of grain. Those symbolized that Siva was a power of both creation and destruction, who ruled on sea as well as land.

The necklace that adorned the mammoth Siva was composed of skulls and serpents. The death's-heads were nearly full size; the snakes were so realistic that their bra.s.s coils appeared to writhe, if a person watched them steadily.

Presiding over this temple was a steady-eyed Hindu, who wore a golden robe. His turban, of the same rare cloth, was marked by a diamond crescent: the symbol of Siva.

Harry Vincent was looking toward the Hindu, when he heard Lucille Mayland whisper the name: "Singhar Bund."

Though Singhar Bund conducted the Siva cult, he was not the only Hindu present. There were half a dozen others; they were attired in baggy garments that covered scrawny bodies. Harry was not certain, but he believed that two of these could be the foemen who had battled The Shadow aboard the Wanderer.

"They are the yogi," undertoned Lucille. "Through meditation, they can unite with Siva, to gain power over all material things."

Harry was getting a rapid insight into the set-up of the Siva cult. The whole affair was a fake, despite its splendor; and for nerve, Singhar Bund could outmatch any swindler that Harry had ever met.

Not one so-called yogi was genuine, in Harry's opinion. The Shadow had correctly cla.s.sed them as dacoits; despite their fancy garb, they looked like murderous stranglers. But the camouflage was good enough to deceive all persons whose knowledge of India depended solely upon what Singhar Bund told them.

Singhar Bund was speaking; his words were in English, smooth and persuasive. He was describing miracles of the Orient; wonders that would be reproduced within this temple. The listeners were persons of intelligence, many of them Lucille's friends; yet they drank in the statements of Singhar Bund.

The promise that lay behind the gorgeous sham was that of life and happiness; freedom from all danger, to those who believed in Siva.

WHILE Singhar Bund continued his languorous lecture, Harry studied the surroundings. The temple had been easy of access. It was located on the second floor of a building that had stores on the street level. Perhaps some of the ground floor belonged to Singhar Bund; certainly, there was more s.p.a.ce on the second floor than the area that the temple occupied.

Though the portals stood wide open, Harry observed that they were equipped with gates of solid bra.s.s; once shut, those would turn the place into a stronghold. There were corridors outside the temple; where they led, Harry had been unable to learn.

One curious feature of the room was that of alcoves in the walls. There were four of them: one in each side wall, the other pair separated by the platform where the Siva statue rested.

In the alcove in the left wall, Harry observed a long wide board, its surface studded with spikes that pointed upward. The alcove in the right wall housed a small platform with a large rod extending vertically from its center.

In the alcove to the left of the Siva statue. Harry saw a huge metalcasket that looked like a sarcophagus; but it was upright, instead of lying flat, as coffins usually did. The casket had a huge lid, which at present seemed to be a door; for it was hinged at one side and equipped with hasps and padlocks at the other.

Singhar Bund ceased his discourse. The group began to buzz among themselves. Harry mentioned the alcoves; Lucille explained the objects that were placed there.

"The bed of spikes," she said, referring to the nail-studded board. "I have seen a yogi lie there for hours, unharmed by the sharp points."

Harry was not impressed. He had seen that stunt at sideshows. The greater the number of spikes, the less weight each received. Even a heavy man could lie on a hundred spikes without feeling jabs from the points.

"Tonight" - Lucille pointed to the alcove in the right wall - "Singhar Bund has promised a demonstration of Hindu levitation. A yogi will rise in the air above that little platform."

"What about the big casket to the left of the statue?" asked Harry.

"It is for the samadhi, or living burial," replied Lucille. "That will be the final test in the course of instruction. It will be demonstrated at a later meeting."

Harry looked to the right of the statue. The fourth alcove was empty; but its inner wall had a bra.s.s door.

"That leads to Singhar Bund's own sanctuary," declared Lucille. "It is where he spends his time in contemplation."

Harry's guess was that Singhar Bund spent part of his time counting the contributions that the cult received; the rest, in studying new lists of dupes.

It was wise, however, not to mention that opinion to Lucille. She was completely sold on the Siva cult.

Taken at face value, the cult racket would be a hard one to break. People had a right to believe what they wanted, and to contribute funds if they so chose. But if murder lay behind the game, the story would be different.

In that case, Singhar Bund could be exposed as a criminal; and his flimflam would be ended. The one flaw was that murder had not yet been pinned on Singhar Bund. To make it a positive conviction, his dacoits would have to be caught in an act of crime, and their actions traced back to Singhar Bund, himself.

ONE of the Hindus had entered the alcove in the right wall. While Singhar Bund was announcing the yogi's coming test, Harry asked Lucille about the other persons present. The girl knew the names of most of them. Some that she mentioned were on The Shadow's list.

One, in particular, was a pinch-faced woman who watched proceedings through a lorgnette. Her name was Madeline Selvin; though Lucille did not seem to know it, the woman was a relation of Rodney Welk. Information that had reached The Shadow, indicated that Madeline Selvin would receive a large portion of Welk's money.

Lucille also pointed out an elderly, stooped man, whose face was droopy and tired-eyed. His name was Phineas Leeth, and he was very wealthy. His money, so Lucille said, had come from mines in Mexico. Leeth was one of the largest contributors to the Siva cult. In fact, he was one of very few cult members who had money in his own right.

There was another man who interested Harry; but Lucille did not know hisname. He was old, with white beard and flowing hair, that gave him the appearance of a patriarch. Though he sat silent and huddled, his eyes were keen and watchful.

Harry was positive that he had seen the old codger somewhere before. He was still wondering about the bearded man's ident.i.ty, when Singhar Bund called for attention.

Two Hindus had been holding a cloth in front of the alcove in the right wall. They removed it, to show a yogi seated in mid-air. His legs were crossed beneath him; his right hand rested lightly on the post that stood in the pedestal.

Awed gasps came from the throng when Singhar Bund took a sword and dramatically pa.s.sed it all about the seated man. The curtain was replaced; soon afterward, the Hindu came from the alcove.

The trick did not baffle Harry. He had read up on the methods of Hindu fakirs, at The Shadow's order. Harry had noted that the Hindu wore a long-sleeved jacket, different from those of Singhar Bund's other helpers.

That sleeve hid a rod connecting with the post. Pa.s.sing along the Hindu's arm, the rod enlarged into a supporting cradle at the Hindu's back. The trick was an old one in India; but it was still mysterious, when performed with all the claptrap that Singhar Bund knew how to provide.

The meeting had ended. One by one, the Siva believers were approaching the huge statue, each waiting at a respectful distance until the one ahead had gone.

Lucille told Harry that this was a usual ceremony. She took her turn among the rest.

Harry observed that the scrawny Hindus were awaiting their turn. When the others had gone, they filed toward the Siva statue. One bowed; went his way.

Another did the same.

It struck Harry that he could establish himself more firmly with Lucille, if he performed the ritual. Seized by a bold urge, he approached the statue, just as the final Hindu reached it.

Harry was less than ten feet distant when the Hindu bowed. He was close enough to catch a sound that others had not noticed. From the lips of the bowing Hindu, Harry heard a hiss. Though subdued, it had the exact tone of the signal that had been given aboard the Wanderer!

HARRY was right. These Hindus were dacoits. One of them was the man who had pitched Welk overboard. Whether the final Hindu was that killer, did not matter. Harry wanted to know why the fake yogi had given the dacoit's call on this occasion. The fellow was still bowed before the statue; he had a listening att.i.tude. Harry took a step forward.

Instantly, his arm was gripped by fingers that had an iron clutch. A hand drew him backward with surprising strength. In contrast came a velvet voice, that purred in Harry's ear; but its tones were so close that Harry could not hear sounds from elsewhere.

"Good evening, my friend," spoke the voice. "You are a neophyte, a newcomer in our midst. But you are one, my vision tells me, who chooses to believe in Siva."

Harry turned to face the smooth-tongued Singhar Bund. He met eyes that shone with glistening stare from a well-formed countenance of oval shape.

Thin, brownish lips had parted in a friendly smile; but Singhar Bund's expression was his usual sham.

The grip relaxed from Harry's wrist. Had he been alone with Singhar Bund,Harry would have expected the Hindu's fingers to reach for his neck. Under present circ.u.mstances, Singhar Bund was forced to retain his oily pose.

The Hindu's eyes sidelonged toward the Siva statue. The last dacoit had gone. With a bow of his turbaned head, Singhar Bund conducted Harry to the image. After they stood in contemplation, Singhar Bund presented Harry with a miniature Siva figure, like the one that Lucille carried.

Harry rejoined Lucille. She was pleased because he had received a token from Singhar Bund; but she was anxious to reach the theater before the show ended. She was sure that her grandfather would question her regarding the play.

They reached the street and took a taxi. It was difficult for Harry to realize that he was really in Manhattan, after the spell of the Siva temple.

But as they rode along, he weighed the facts that he had gained.

Harry would have a real report for The Shadow, regarding both the Siva cult and its controller, Singhar Bund. Harry had learned much tonight; but chance had provided him with a highlight - namely, that signal given at the Siva statue.

Though Harry could not guess the reason for the dacoit's murderous call, he was confident that The Shadow would divine its purpose.

CHAPTER VIII.

SINGHAR BUND SPEAKS.

ALL the members of the Siva cult had not left the upstairs temple at the time when Harry and Lucille departed. Among those who remained was Phineas Leeth; bent low over his cane, the mine owner was chatting with others of the group.

Another person present was the white-bearded man who had captured Harry's attention. He was much interested in the temple. With slow gait, he went from alcove to alcove, peering with his quick-darting eyes.

The bearded man was looking at the big casket near the Siva statue, when a person approached him. He turned to meet Singhar Bund. The Hindu showed the same suave pose that he had used with Harry.

"The burial tomb," spoke Singhar Bund, referring to the casket.

"Imprisoned there, an ordinary mortal would soon die for want of air; but a yogi, placed in the hypnotic state that we term samadhi, can live indefinitely.

"The trance state represents the highest form of yogi concentration. That is why I have reserved the living burial for the final demonstration in this series of meetings. I hope, sir, that you will be present to witness it."

The old man nodded, as though he antic.i.p.ated the event. Motioning toward the casket, he wheezed a question: "Why the padlocks?"

"To prove that the yogi never leaves his tomb," smiled Singhar Bund.

"There are always skeptics who doubt that these demonstrations are genuine. We find it necessary to convince them."

While his smooth voice purred, Singhar Bund kept steady eyes upon the bearded man. The visitor had no other question, so Singhar Bund put one of his own.

"Would you like to see some authentic photographs of yogi miracles?" he asked. "I have a collection, brought from India. They are in my private grotto."

He gestured toward the doorway beyond the Siva statue. The bearded man nodded his acceptance of the invitation.

The grotto lay beyond a heavy bra.s.s door. It proved much smaller than the temple, although its paneled walls were also of metal. The ceiling was arched,but low; the room was packed with exquisite furnis.h.i.+ngs.

Singhar Bund motioned the bearded man to a chair that looked as ornate as a rajah's throne.

"Why should we deal in pretense?" purred Singhar Bund. "You would be more comfortable without your disguise, Inspector Cardona!"