That was the real problem. It was beyond Harry Vincent’s handling. Here as an advance investigator, it was Harry’s duty to report the first mysterious developments. In his room at the Elite Hotel, Harry worded a telegram to Rutledge Mann.
Purchase bonds as arranged and notify me before to-morrow night.
This telegram would reach Mann before he left his office. Its meaning was important. It meant that something serious had occurred in Holmsford; that the crucial time would be the next evening. This message, Harry knew, would go quickly through to The Shadow.
HARRY VINCENT was right. Shortly before five o’clock, a telegraph messenger entered Rutledge Mann’s suite of offices, in the Badger Building, near Times Square. He gave the telegram to the stenographer, who took it into Mann’s private office.
Rutledge Mann, a solemn, chubby-faced individual, opened the telegram and read it in methodical fashion. He picked up a desk telephone and called a number. A quiet voice responded:
“Burbank speaking.”
Burbank was The Shadow’s hidden operative. Stationed at a certain spot, he received telephone messages at any hour, both from The Shadow and The Shadow’s agents. Burbank changed his location frequently. Always, however, he was within immediate reach.
Mann read the telegram over the phone. A click sounded at the other end. Twenty minutes later, Mann, waiting expectantly, heard the telephone bell ring. It was Burbank, calling back.
The quiet-voiced man gave Rutledge Mann the wording for a telegram to send to Harry Vincent. The investment broker wrote out the message. He transferred it to a telegraph blank and called the stenographer.
While Harry Vincent was dining in the Elite Hotel, a bell boy entered, carrying a telegram. Harry opened the message. It read:
BOND PURCHASES MADE STOP ARRANGE LISTINGS AND HOLD FOR LATER REFERENCE
Harry Vincent thrust the telegram into his pocket. Finishing his meal, he went out to the street and entered his coupe. He drove in the direction of the Bartram mansion, and cruised past the place. Parking in an obscure spot, Harry alighted from the car and cautiously entered the grounds.
His objective was a lighted window on the first floor. Peering from an angle, Harry caught a glimpse of Willard Saybrook, seated in a chair in the living room. That was all that Harry needed to know. He was sure that Saybrook was not abroad tonight. A later check would be necessary; but in the meantime, Harry had other details to handle.
Driving back to the hotel, Harry went to his room and wrote out a complete report of the data which he had gathered during the day. He inscribed this in code, using his special ink. He folded the message and placed it in an envelope, which he placed upon a sheet of paper in the writing-table drawer.
Again Harry went out and drove slowly through the streets of Holmsford. Parking near the Bartram house, he sought the spot from which he had observed Willard Saybrook in the living room.
His new observation was as successful as the first. Saybrook was seated in the same chair. He was talking to some one, and as Harry watched, he caught a glimpse of a girl passing across the room. This was evidently Grace Bartram.
Harry returned to his car, and began another slow cruise, keeping always in the neighborhood of the mansion to make sure that Saybrook did not leave the place.
Shortly before eleven o’clock, the lights were extinguished. Fifteen minutes later, Harry, parked down the street, decided that his vigil was no longer necessary.
Before he could start the motor, Harry heard a thrumming sound. Peering from the window of the coupe, he saw the lights of an airplane moving above. Evidently the ship was descending toward the Holmsford airport.
IN driving back to the hotel, Harry took a circuitous route to pass the houses of both Hurley Adams and dead Maurice Pettigrew. Each place was dark.
When he drove his car into the garage, Harry began to think again of the descending plane. It was not unusual for a ship to land at Holmsford at night. But this plane, to Harry, had a peculiar significance.
Holmsford was only a few hours from New York, by air. The plane had come from that direction!
Could The Shadow have come from New York? Harry thought it likely. If such were the case, The Shadow might be at the Elite Hotel now. Harry conjectured on the possibility as he walked through the lobby.
Reaching the floor where his room was located, Harry walked down the corridor and made a sharp turn that brought him to his room. With key in hand, he stopped point-blank before the closed door.
In a twinkling, Harry had seen something which caught his attention. He was positive that he had detected a slight motion of the doorknob, as though some one had turned it from the inside. Was his imagination working? Or had some one entered that room a moment before?
Harry hesitated. To his mind came instructions which had been given him before he left New York for Holmsford.
A telegram such as he had received tonight carried one definite meaning. It signified that Harry should deposit his report in the drawer of the writing table in his hotel room, instead of forwarding it to New York. Harry had followed those instructions. There were no other conditions.
If The Shadow, himself, had planned to come for that report, he might be in Harry’s room at this very moment!
Knowing the secretive methods of his mysterious employer, Harry was reluctant to surprise The Shadow at work. Nevertheless, there was a possibility that some one else might have entered the room. Fearing this Harry boldly opened the door and turned on the light.
To all appearances, the room was empty. It was a large, old-fashioned room, and the single light left many obscure spots and corners as Harry glanced about him. Harry was now convinced that his imagination had been at work. To make sure that all was well, he opened the table drawer and saw that his envelope still lay there as he had left it.
With a slight laugh at his own imaginative wanderings, Harry walked across the room and lighted a cigarette. He stared for a few moments through the window, and went back to the writing desk.
A tiny click attracted his attention: Harry swung quickly toward the door. The knob was turning again — but this time it must have been actuated from some one outside!
THERE was something in the motion of the knob that brought a quick thought to Harry’s mind. It seemed as though the person beyond the barrier must have turned it with the deliberate intention of arousing Harry. It seemed like a signal of departure.
Momentarily alarmed, Harry sprang to the door and opened it. There was no one in the corridor. Peering past the turn, Harry saw that the hallway was empty beyond.
Back in his room, Harry closed the door and nervously puffed his cigarette. His mind reverted to the envelope. Harry opened the table drawer.
The envelope was gone!
In amazement, Harry lifted the piece of paper that he had been instructed to put beneath the envelope.
As the paper came into the light, Harry saw something that made him gasp.
Indelibly impressed upon the white paper was a grayish blotch that formed a strange silhouette. It made the profile of a man with features obscured by a projecting hat brim and an upturned cloak collar. As Harry stared at this mysterious sign, the gray silhouette vanished in the light.
The Shadow!
He had entered the room — as Harry had first supposed. The opening of the door, when Harry had come in, had caused The Shadow to glide out of sight, in some obscure portion of the room. Unseen eyes had watched Harry as he walked about the room. The Shadow had known that Harry had seen the turning knob.
Mysterious always, The Shadow had not appeared, even to his trusted agent. He had seen Harry look to see that the envelope was safe. As Harry’s eyes had turned in another direction, The Shadow, moving silently and swiftly, had taken the envelope from its resting place.