Craven’s actions — those of Elbert Breck — the presence of an unnamed prowler — all these belonged in Harry’s report. Yet they did not give the final verdict. They did not tell who had slain Grantham Breck or who had killed Ezekiel Twinton. Yet Harry sensed that his report would have a value.
After events broke loose tonight, Tim Forey would have new information. Then Harry’s statements would fit into place like the odd pieces of a jig-saw. Harry’s thoughts began to center on this very house.
Two men: Elbert and Craven. They were not in collusion, yet both had acted oddly. Harry knew the reason for the double activity. One was probably suspicious of the other. This meant that if one went out, the other might follow.
The mysterious elimination of one would puzzle the other. Hence it was Harry’s job — impartially — to put the first chap away where the second would not find him. This would mean quick work; Harry felt sure that he could perform it.
A new padlock had been placed upon the smoke house. Tim Forey had the key. That padlock, however, had been mysteriously removed; a similar one had been put in its place by The Shadow. Harry Vincent had the key to it — left with The Shadow’s message. Later, it would be Harry’s duty to explain that he himself had broken off the sheriff’s lock and put on one of his own. The results of tonight’s adventure would justify the deed.
ELEVEN o’clock. Harry Vincent was tense. He felt that trouble was centering about this house. Though action was due upon the hill, the movements hereabouts might have their effect. Harry felt that something was due to happen.
Listening, The Shadow’s agent heard soft footsteps in the hall. He caught the creak as someone descended the back stairs. Gripping an automatic, Harry stole from his room. He reached the stairs and moved downward. He found the kitchen door in the dark; it was unbolted.
Moving out, Harry spied a dim figure going toward the smoke house. Evidently the person was getting clear of the grounds before taking his next direction, whatever it might be. Swiftly, Harry hastened forward. He was almost upon the lurking man before the fellow turned.
Springing, Harry shot fingers for the enemy’s throat. The man went sprawling on the ground. His head thudded against the dry, baked clay. Half groggy, the victim tried to voice a protest. Harry clapped hand to his mouth. The man gasped and subsided.
Harry produced a dark bandanna and used it as a gag. He had hit the man harder than he had expected. Bonds were unnecessary for the present. The smoke house was only a dozen yards away. Harry hoisted his prey and made for the door. He found the padlock dangling; the hasp was open for his convenience.
Inside the smoke house, Harry closed the door behind him. He chuckled softly. This had been a quick, efficient job. Letting his limp burden to the ground, Harry turned on a flashlight. He studied the pale face that came within the light. The man whom he had captured was Elbert Breck.
Leather thongs were hanging in readiness from a hook on the smokehouse beam. Harry used them to bind the young heir. Elbert opened his eyes and blinked when his captor had finished. He tried to snarl; he struggled with his bonds. All was to no avail.
Elbert was carrying a gun. Harry had felt it in his pocket. But The Shadow’s agent had not removed the weapon. Instruction had been to tie and gag his prisoner in such fashion that the man could neither escape nor cry for help. Harry had done this.
Harry clicked off the flashlight. He stole from the smoke house and listened. He heard nothing. He unlocked the dangling padlock and fastened the hasp to the staple. When the padlock clicked shut, the job was done. Only The Shadow or Harry could open that door; they alone had the keys. Someone could break in — but that was unlikely. No one would suspect that the living son had been stowed in the cache that had once housed his dead father.
The next step was to communicate with The Shadow. The mode of contact depended upon the time element. There were different ways in which Harry could inform his chief of the capture; he had time to utilize the best. That meant a trip up to the road on the side of the hill — to the very spot where Harry had first discovered the body of Grantham Breck.
THERE had been no signs of Craven. It was possible that the butler had not heard Elbert and Harry leave. There was a chance that he had come out while Harry was still in the smoke house; if so, Craven was probably seeking Elbert’s trail off away from the grounds.
Harry headed for the hill road. For a space, he felt free. Then he gained the suspicion that someone was on his trail.
Could it be Craven?
Harry recalled the stealth of the butler; but he was reassured when he gave thought to the fellow’s physical inferiority. He was sure that Craven — should he enter the scene — would be easily overpowered. Elbert Breck had not proven at all formidable.
Harry had no fear of mobsters. If any of them used the road to reach the hill, The Shadow would be watching. Moreover, Harry did not expect any to be coming from this direction. He reached the bushes that fringed the road. He pushed through to the exact spot where Grantham Breck’s body had lain.
There, Harry paused. After a short interval in which he felt security, The Shadow’s agent used his flashlight. He picked up three small stones and set them in a cluster. He added a fourth stone — a larger one — to the group.
This meant that he had captured Elbert Breck; two large stones would have indicated Craven. Three would have been the sign had Harry encountered someone other than a man from the house. His message posted, Harry extinguished the flashlight and moved back along the road to choose a new opening between the bushes.
Someone stirred close by. Harry drew his automatic. The sound came from the lower side of the road. Instinctively, Harry edged toward the embankment. He clambered upward, in order to gain an advantage in case he were forced to an encounter.
More sounds. Harry tried to locate them. He paused, ten yards above the road. Dried grass rustled close at hand. Deliberately, Harry moved in that direction. Then came a figure, springing from the dark. Harry shot forward to meet the attack.
HE expected Craven. Instead, he locked with a fighter of more potence. A stocky, stalwart foe was his antagonist. Gripped by a strangle-hold, Harry swung his arm in desperation. A hand caught his twist. Harry’s automatic dropped from his hand. Then he and his enemy sprawled upon the ground. Together, they rolled toward the embankment. Headlong, they shot down to the road; all the while, the pressure on Harry’s throat increased.
A jolt. Harry lay motionless. The other man arose and frisked The Shadow’s agent. Finding no weapons, he grabbed Harry beneath the arms and brought the young man to his feet. Groggily, Harry staggered in the other’s grasp.
The unknown assailant piloted Harry along the road; then cut through to a field. They covered some distance in this fashion; then Harry, recuperating, realized his predicament. Swinging, he shot his hands forth for a new grapple. The answer was a fist straight to his jaw. Harry collapsed.
The victor chuckled. Then, with a remarkable display of strength, he hoisted Harry over his shoulder and struggled forward with his burden. At times, he stopped and let Harry fall roughly on the ground; these intervals of rest completed, he again hoisted his prisoner and continued his progress.
The course led to the railroad, a hundred yards above the station. Here the assailant waited, letting Harry lie slumped across the rails. Then, after a brief glance toward the lighted platform of the station, he hoisted his burden and staggered forward toward his goal.
This was the empty freight car on the siding. The victor shoved Harry through an opened door, on the far side of the track. The nearer door was closed; after clambering into the car, the man closed the further door also. He turned the glimmer of a flashlight upon Harry’s face. Once more, he chuckled.