HARRY had spotted the direction in which the sedan had gone. He had followed far behind. At every crossroad, he had stopped to examine traces. Fortunately, the roads were muddy in spots. After a slow trailing, in which the sedan had gained miles, Harry had found himself approaching the vicinity of the pasture fourteen miles from Ransdale’s.
Harry had stopped once at the distant sound of a motor. He had recognized it as an airplane; then had dropped the matter. Planes were uncommon in this portion of the Catskills; the one that Harry had heard seemed several miles away.
Now, however, Harry had reached the end of his journey and he was wondering what next to do. He had spotted the final tracks of the sedan when he had reached the pasture that was surrounded by barbed wire. The car had turned into a narrow road that led through a heavy gate into the pasture!
How long ago? Harry estimated that it must have been considerably more than an hour — closer to two perhaps — since Ransdale’s car had reached this spot. The trailing had been a slow task on which Harry had followed wrong roads more than once.
Had Ransdale been in the car? Harry did not know. He was preparing a specific statement to add to his other notes. At present, Harry was in a spot of security, for he had parked the coupe in a road that led away from the pasture.
The only course was to investigate. Before he did so, however, Harry planned to be ready for emergency. He could not understand this visit of the sedan to the isolated pasture — the only stretch of open ground within miles of Ransdale’s home.
Clambering from the coupe, Harry opened the rear. Instead of a rumble seat, he produced a heavy box from which he drew out wireless equipment. This constituted a sending apparatus of The Shadow’s own invention. With prompt efficiency, Harry rigged up the sending station through which he could communicate with Burbank.
The Shadow’s agent worked rapidly in the silence of the night. His task completed, he tested with the key. At last he gained a response. In special code, Harry clicked through a brief report:
Ransdale car at pasture clearing. Forty minutes minimum from house. Investigating.
With this assurance, Harry left the coupe. He had turned out the dome light. The car was lost in blackness. Following the untraveled road, Harry finally turned off and cut through bushes until he encountered the barbed wire.
This barrier was not so formidable as the one about Ransdale’s house. Harry passed it and crept along the fringe of the woods. He could see the clearing in the starlight. Harry decided to circuit the entire area.
At one end of the clearing, Harry stopped short as he saw a broad path cut beneath high, overhanging branches. Creeping to the edge, Harry saw what appeared to be a low building in the darkness. The front end looked like a solid wall of black. Harry moved closer. Then came realization.
The front wall was an opening. This low-built structure was a hangar for an airplane!
Stopping, Harry fancied that he could hear whispered voices from the hangar. Then came the thought of the airplane motor that he had heard. Harry knew the truth.
Rowland Ransdale must have come here tonight with a squad of his men. They had pulled the airplane from its hidden hangar and Ransdale — with one or more companions — had taken off for parts, unknown! Other men had been left in charge, awaiting the return of their employer.
WHAT was Ransdale’s purpose? Evidently the mine owner had utilized this hangar before. Until now, Harry had regarded Ransdale as a man who sought seclusion. This placed a new light on affairs in the Catskills. Ransdale — for some unknown reasons — had cause to leave his abode in secret fashion, with a rapid mode of travel at his ready command.
Was Ransdale’s return expected soon? Probably, because the men were waiting in the hangar. This made a report important. Harry crawled back through the woods, passed through the barbed wire and hurried to the coupe.
Establishing communication with Burbank, Harry sent his new message. He gave Burbank every detail he had discovered, including the approximate time of the airplane’s departure. Then, with the final statement that there would be more information when Ransdale returned, Harry went back to the vicinity of the hangar.
The Shadow’s agent placed himself at the edge of the clearing. Then, with caution, he moved down the cut-out alleyway below the trees until he neared the hangar. Here, in darkness, he might be able to overhear some conversation. Any details would be important.
Mumbled voices reached Harry’s ears as the young man edged toward the blackened front of the hangar. Just away from protecting trees, he tried to make out the jargon that he heard, but the words were indistinguishable. Then came a distant sound that made Harry turn.
Ransdale’s airplane was returning! Far up beyond the clearing, Harry caught the twinkle of tiny lights. Fascinated, The Shadow’s agent watched. It was that action that made him unready for what suddenly occurred.
A click came from the interior of the hangar. A light blazed from the front of the building. Other lights came on about the field. This hidden landing spot was illuminated; and Harry Vincent, out from the trees a few yards from the hangar, was caught in the glare.
Leaping to his feet, Harry turned to dash for cover. He was too late. Two men, pouncing from the hangar, fell upon him before he could gain the shelter of the trees. A stunning blow dazed Harry. While one man gave instructions, the other strapped a belt about the arms of The Shadow’s agent.
The roar of the descending airplane sounded like tremendous waves in Harry’s ears. Prostrate, on his back, his head swimming and his eyes blinking at the lights, Harry saw the ship come to earth and zoom closer and closer as it crossed the field. The brakes applied, the plane came to a stop less than a hundred feet away.
One of Harry’s captors dragged him to his feet. Stumbling, Harry moved forward toward the plane. As he stared ahead, he saw three men alighting. One, he recognized as Rowland Ransdale. The second — whom Harry did not know — was Hazzlett.
Between them, standing wearily, was Lamont Cranston. Harry saw the captured millionaire as a calm-faced individual whose features showed dejection. He realized that this man was a prisoner.
SHOVED face to face with Rowland Ransdale, Harry Vincent caught the gleam of evil eyes. He heard words of explanation from his captors. Then, apart from Lamont Cranston, Harry Vincent was marched across the field, to the spot where the sedan was parked among the trees.
Rough hands shoved Harry Vincent into the car. Lamont Cranston tumbled in from the other side. Ransdale’s pair of waiting ruffians piled into the back to growl commands for silence, which they backed with threatening revolvers.
The glow of the lights about the field disappeared. A few minutes later, Rowland Ransdale arrived; then Hazzlett. The latter took the wheel. The sedan pulled out through the gate; it stopped long enough for Hazzlett to alight and close the barrier.
The sedan started on; and as it jounced along the bumpy dirt road, Harry Vincent, silent, began to grasp the truth. He knew — too late — the true motives that guided Rowland Ransdale. He realized that the dignified man who was a prisoner beside him must be another abducted man of wealth.
Too late to inform Burbank, Harry Vincent had learned that Rowland Ransdale was The Black Falcon! Amazing discovery though this had been, its stupefying effect was small compared to the one which would have gripped Harry had he known the identity of the prisoner beside him.
For Harry did not know Lamont Cranston. Nor had he — even as The Shadow’s agent — ever connected the personality of a New Jersey millionaire with the mysterious master known as The Shadow.
The Black Falcon had gained another prisoner in Harry Vincent. The coupe, with its wireless equipment, was resting hidden among the trees. Burbank had received enough information to know that something must be wrong when no new word came from Harry.