Both looked the worse for wear. Carradon, who had been missing longer, was badly in need of a shave, while Rundon showed the effects of his hard struggle by a bloodstained bandage wrapped around his head. The two approached Harry, then looked back gingerly at a guard who stood in the doorway.
Harry opened his eyes. Eagerly, Carradon and Rundon propped him up, and swabbed his face with a sponge from a handy water bucket. They were asking questions, anxiously, eagerly. At first, Harry looked askance at the guard in the doorway; then he saw his fellow prisoners smile bitterly.
"Nothing you can tell us will hurt," said Carradon. "These fellows know everything that's going on."
"But they've told us very little," added Rundon. "There's a lot we'd like to learn. Did they deliver those notes?"
Harry nodded, then remarked: "To Scorpio."
Both men looked puzzled. When Harry explained how Scorpio had claimed full innocence, the pair showed anger. It was Carradon who gave chief vent to his opinions.
"The nerve of him!" Carradon stormed. "I'd never have believed it! But it sounds like Scorpio, all right-to send notes to himself!"
"Was Scorpio here?" asked Harry.
"No," replied Carradon. "Rufus told us what to write. There wasn't any use to argue. We knew the notes would tell people that we were alive."
"He'll probably make you write one next," added Rundon. "Then he'll send it over to Scorpio in that crazy ship this bunch his bunch is using."
Harry shook his head.
"It won't be delivered tonight," he said, "unless a spook brings it. Scorpio is putting on a show at Grendale's."
Rundon snapped his fingers and turned to Carradon.
"That's why Barcla hasn't been around!" he exclaimed. "We figured he was Scorpio's pet spook. He'll be needed over at Grendale's."
Further conversation was ended by the arrival of Rufus. For the first time, Harry noticed that Rufus had a bandaged shoulder. One of The Shadow's bullets had evidently clipped him during the passing fray at the Castle dock, two nights before.
Yanking Harry to his feet, Rufus lined him up with Carradon and Rundon. The three were marched in lock step through a passage, down natural steps in the rock. Rufus followed with the lantern; they came to a row of crannies in the wall. Each crevice had a metal gate."
The three were stowed in their improvised cells, where cots awaited them. They were some distance apart, but they could all hear Rufus clank the locks on the other cells. Then the fellow growled:
"No jabber tonight. You've had enough time to talk. Any guy that opens his trap will get another tap in back of the ear. If you can't go to sleep, we'll show you how!"
WITH the lantern gone, the cell passage became absolutely black. Lying on his cot, Harry could almost imagine that he was in a huge cave, instead of a tiny rock crevice He heard slight stirs from the others: the darkness seemed to annoy them. Finally, they quieted. But the darkness didn't bother Harry. He rather liked it.
Harry's head was aching badly; even the brief display of light had hurt his eyes. Besides, he could think well in darkness. He realized that his half-conscious spell had carried him over a full day. It was night again, and it would soon be time for Scorpio's séance. The time when The Shadow planned a big surprise for the artful professor and his tool, Barcla.
The others would be there, too-Rufus, Horace, and a few more servants who had skipped from the Calada colony under pressure.
They wouldn't be all; this strange lair, wherever it was located, had been peopled all along by hidden workers who were in the crooked game. But there still might be a chance for a showdown-by The Shadow.
Harry wasn't worried about his chief, not even when the opposition was numerous. But he foresaw one serious handicap. The Shadow had depended upon Harry's return to Lake Calada. Whatever his plans, The Shadow would have to change them at the last moment.
It wasn't a pleasing prospect, considering that there was no one else who could supply whatever duties The Shadow expected from Harry.
Across the lake, at Denwood's, The Shadow was considering that very factor while sitting at the desk in the study. The Shadow had read Harry's note, written in special ink that faded, the sort that The Shadow and his agents always used in correspondence.
The Shadow had read it that morning, and had thereby obtained some very useful information, proving a prospect that he had considered a likely one. All day, The Shadow had been expecting Harry's return, since Denwood had been sure that the agent had caught the last plane.
But Harry had not come back. The afternoon plane was already here from Los Angeles, and Harry should have been on it. Remembering the return of the mystery craft to Indian Cove, The Shadow could picture only too well what had happened to his agent.
The rented boat was back at the Community Center, but no one remembered that Harry had delivered it personally. Nor was anyone sure that he had been among the half-dozen passengers who had taken the plane to Los Angeles.
There was a knock at the study door. It was Denwood, ready to start for Grendale's. With one of Cranston's affable smiles, The Shadow went along, to a hired boat that was waiting at the dock. His maskish face showed none of the worry that he actually felt.
Impulse urged The Shadow to make a prompt trip to the lair beneath Indian Rock; there to deal with crooks. But he resisted his wish to speed to Harry's rescue. If still alive, Harry would be safe until later.
Moreover, if The Shadow's analysis of the crime situation was entirely accurate, there would be a very good reason for Harry, or any other prisoner, to be alive.
There was a throng at Grendale's wharf. Everyone had begged an invitation tonight, most of them hoping to witness a failure on the part of Professor Scorpio.
Carrying dark garments over his arm, The Shadow let the others go ahead, Denwood included. Stepping from the path, he lost the guise of Cranston, when he cloaked himself in black.
AS The Shadow, shrouded creature of gloom, the cloaked investigator made a detour to the side of Grendale's elaborately built lodge, found a cellar window that offered him entrance.
The sheriff's men were guarding the premises, but they were keeping to the fringes of the woods, forming a semicircle to the water front. They weren't to close in until they received a signal from the building.
His flashlight dabbing tiny spots through the cellar, The Shadow sought for some hidden opening to the floor above. So far, Scorpio had preserved the main secret of his séances, namely, that he had tricked every house in the Calada colony, so that fake ghosts could enter and leave at their convenience.
The game had gone bad at Lodi's, but the professor's incendiary job had fixed the trick alcove. Here at Grendale's, however, The Shadow expected a more clever set-up.
With Rufus at hand, ready to do hammer duty, Scorpio had risked a loose trap the other night. He had no accomplice among Grendale's servants, so far as The Shadow had been able to discover.
Passing a partition in the cellar, The Shadow noticed that it was set at a trifling angle. Instantly, he tried it, and discovered that it would shift slightly under pressure. Above was a broad slab set in masonry. The Shadow gave a whispered laugh. The shift of the partition left that slab entirely free.
Pushing the partition back in place, The Shadow moved back to the window. He knew why the partition had been set a bit off; on account of Barcla's occasional spells of dumbness. The fellow had blundered badly over at Lodi's when he hadn't been able to find his way out from the cellar.
Reaching the ground, The Shadow made a blackened blotch against the side wall of the lodge, as he looked into the big room where the séance was to take place. Professor Scorpio, smirking through his beard, was allowing himself to be searched. So far, his sleeves were proven free of spooks.