One of the waiting-room windows was open. Peering eyes were looking in from the blackness. Keen ears were listening. The Shadow had chosen this post; yet neither Hoyler nor Nubin was aware of the fact. Agent and detective were making for the platform; already, the whistle of the Dairy Express was blaring for the crossing of the hill road.
“Going back to a milk route, eh?” laughed Hoyler, as Nubin started to cut across the tracks. “Well, riding Sixty-two is better than driving a horse and wagon.”
Nubin made no response to this jest. He disappeared beyond a freight car on the siding. Hoyler turned to watch the approaching glare of the Dairy Express as the train came grinding down the rails.
THE train was a heavy one. The wheels of the big Mogul spun when the locomotive started forward after the brief stop. Zach Hoyler remained on the platform, watching the long line of black milk cars move slowly by. As the rear of the train was nearing, a figure sprang outward from between two cars. Perry Nubin waved a good-bye to the station agent.
Hoyler watched the train curve around the nearby bend, its speed still low. He walked back into the station, to close up for the night. He did not see two events which took place outside.
The first concerned Perry Nubin. It was something that Hoyler could not possibly have observed, because of the intervening bend. Three hundred yards up the track, the railroad dick dropped from his perch and landed sprawling beside the right of way. He crouched there until the train had passed; then lingered, planning to return toward the station after the agent had gone.
The second occurrence was one that Hoyler might have witnessed had he been outside the station. From the darkness beside the waiting-room window, a spectral figure moved across the platform. For a few brief moments, lights showed the vague outline of The Shadow. Then the phantom shape merged with the darkness. The Shadow had headed along the tracks in the direction from which the Dairy Express had come.
Shortly afterward, the station was blotted out by darkness. Zach Hoyler had started for town in his old roadster. No one was near the station. Perry Nubin had approached; then made a short cut over toward the road. The Shadow was far along the track.
Later, a light glimmered in the old shack halfway to the grade crossing. The Shadow had entered the little building. His keen eyes were studying odd scraps of newspaper and empty bottles. Some of these objects had been moved. Someone had visited the shack.
A soft laugh crept from The Shadow’s lips. The little light went out. The Shadow moved away from the shack. His course led him back to the station. Finding that all was silent there, The Shadow began a stealthy course in the direction of the Breck house.
THIS investigation had required more than a half hour. Hence The Shadow had not reached the vicinity of the Breck house when a certain event took place within that building. The happening there concerned Harry Vincent.
Sheriff Tim Forey had placed two deputies on duty. One was asleep in the living room; the other in a bedroom on the second floor. Harry Vincent, however, was awake. As he sat by the little table, The Shadow’s agent fancied that he heard creeping sounds from the hall.
Craven? Harry recalled that the servant had spent a long time in the kitchen earlier in the evening. About midnight, the man had gone upstairs. Harry stole softly to the hall and listened. He heard nothing more.
Harry tiptoed to the door of Elbert Breck’s room. He tried the knob. The door was locked. Harry could see Elbert’s window from his own, so he went back and peered out from his window. He made a prompt discovery. Hanging from Elbert’s window was a ropelike object formed of trunk straps buckled together.
Elbert had made a secret exit from the house. How long ago, Harry did not know. He recalled that Elbert had gone to his room at eleven o’clock. It was nearly one o’clock now. Hastily, Harry added lines to his report. He folded all the sheets and placed them in an envelope. Stealthily he left his room and found the back stairs to the kitchen.
There was no lock on the door that led to the back porch. The barrier was fitted with two bolts; both of these had been drawn. This meant that Craven, like Elbert Breck, could also be roaming at large. Yet if both were out, they must be acting independently; otherwise they would have chosen the same means of exit. This bore out Harry’s positive belief that Elbert and Craven had no common plan between them.
Harry went outside and closed the door behind him. Staring across the fields, he was sure that he saw a figure prowling toward the hill. The starlight gave only a momentary glimpse. This was the direction in which Harry was sure Elbert or Craven would have gone. The Shadow’s agent headed toward the hill.
SEVERAL minutes later, The Shadow arrived beside the house. His keen eyes spied the string of straps hanging from Elbert Breck’s window. Swiftly, The Shadow used this contrivance to reach the second floor. He entered Elbert Breck’s room and found it empty.
The key was on the inside of the door. The Shadow unlocked the barrier, made his gliding way to Harry’s room and read his agent’s report. He returned, locked Elbert’s door from the inside and made a prompt exit by the window. Swiftly, The Shadow headed toward the hill.
Up ahead, Harry Vincent had passed the road where he had found the body of Grantham Breck. Creeping along the slope beyond, Harry held his breath and listened. He was sure that he heard soft sounds from the night. He knew that one man was up ahead. But he also felt sure that there was another lurking over to the right; that a third was moving in from the left.
Harry kept straight ahead, gripping the revolver that was in his pocket. He felt confident that The Shadow would soon be here; but much depended upon how soon the mysterious master visited Breck’s to gain Harry’s report.
Of one thing, Harry was certain as he neared the brow of the slope and saw the dim outline of Ezekiel Twinton’s house. Paths were converging on the hill. Cross-purposes were at work. Danger — perhaps death — lay close at hand.
CHAPTER XII
DEATH ON THE HILL
ALL became tense as Harry Vincent crouched close by the fence line that had once marked the boundary of Ezekiel Twinton’s property. Listening, Harry felt sure that stealthy men were on the move. Harry sensed that something was due to happen. It came.
A mastiff growled. One of Twinton’s dogs had scented a prowler. Then came another growl; a hound yapped. The deep-throated, warning bark of the first mastiff broke from the darkness. A lull followed.
Someone had approached too close to the house. The intruder had shifted away; still, the dogs were growling. Harry was positive that Ezekiel Twinton must have been awakened by the noise. One minute passed; then a bright light flashed from beneath the roof of the back porch. Ezekiel Twinton stepped into view.
The light was powerful. Harry could make out Twinton’s attire. The hilltop dweller was clad in slippers, trousers and shirt. Peering from his porch, he looked for prowlers within the range of light that formed a forty-foot circle. He stepped down to the ground.
Harry, himself, could see a figure that had stopped on the very fringe of the light. This man was close to the ground. Had Twinton spied the man also? Or had he observed some other lurker in the gloom? Harry drew his revolver, not knowing what might happen.
Ezekiel Twinton was coming forward, his glinting gun half raised. Suddenly, he made a swift leap directly toward the figure that Harry had observed. The huddled man came to his feet and sprang into the darkness. Twinton pounced upon him. They grappled; then the prowler went sprawling just beyond the edge of the light.
Twinton was quick as a cat. He seemed intent upon capturing his prey. He bounded forward, instead of using his revolver. He, too, was leaping into darkness. Then came the sudden finish, just as Twinton grappled with his hidden foe.