This gave his plan away. Chadwick was evidently aiming for the Palmyra bridge, a long span that connected Pennsylvania with New Jersey.
They reached the bridge, and after following Chadwick to the other side, Harry allowed the man to increase the space that separated the two cars. There was a straight road ahead; it would not do to be too close.
Far out in the country, Chadwick speeded his machine and drew out of sight around a long bend. When Harry reached the straight stretch that followed the curve, he could see no sign of his quarry. But his headlights showed a crossroads. There had been a heavy rain, and a smeared tire track indicated that a car had turned to the left.
Harry swung in that direction. He was piqued at his failure to follow effectively; but now he had a hunch that he believed must be correct.
They had been traveling for nearly an hour. Chadwick had shown only a few bursts of speed. The destination must be close, otherwise the man would have traveled more rapidly.
Harry knew this road, now that he was upon it. Three miles ahead was located a roadhouse called the Green Mill — a spot where beer runners sometimes gathered. Harry was convinced that the lonely roadhouse was Denby Chadwick's destination.
At ten minutes of twelve, Harry neared the Green Mill. He piloted his coupe up a side road; then ran it into an unfenced field beneath a clump of trees. The tires wallowed in mud, but the car slid through to a dry spot.
There was no time to waste. Harry could see the lights of the roadhouse. He opened the back of his coupe. He lifted an inner lid to disclose a complete and compact wireless sending set.
Harry strung an aerial between two trees. He worked with speed and precision.
The sending key clicked when he had completed operations. Harry's fingers were at work. With the special equipment provided him by The Shadow, Harry was reporting.
Somewhere, not far from New York, The Shadow had a sending station which enabled him to keep in direct touch by wireless. Harry had used this method of communication in the past. So far as he knew, the man at the other end was Burbank, The Shadow's most trusted agent.
Harry had often communicated with him.
Harry did not wait for a response. Satisfied that the set was working, he hurried toward the roadhouse, and did not slacken his pace until he was close by the building. There, he crouched in darkness and wormed his way toward a lighted window.
The shade was drawn, but there was a slight space at the bottom. Peering through, Harry saw Denby Chadwick, seated at a table.
Chadwick was waiting for someone who had not yet arrived. While Harry watched and waited, he heard a car pull in from the pike, bound toward a parking space at the side of the roadhouse. A few minutes later, a door opened within the room. A man entered. Harry stared.
The man was heavy and powerfully built. His face was an ugly one.
Stuart Bruxton's description of Grady flashed through Harry's mind. He felt positive this man was the killer who had slain both Jefferson and Powell!
Harry's hand tightened on his automatic. If Grady attempted murder here, he would fail.
Harry was ready to send a bullet through the man's brain if he attacked Denby Chadwick.
But it became evident that Grady was here for no such purpose. His face was ugly and leering; but it carried no fiendish look.
The men were conversing, but Harry could not catch their words. Chadwick drew forth a small portfolio, and gave it to Grady. The evil-faced man opened it and peered in at the contents.
He spoke a few words to Chadwick; then arose and went to the door.
For a moment Harry thought he was leaving; instead, he reappeared with a waiter. The man had bottles and glasses. Drinks were poured.
Grady, grinning, imbibed deeply. Chadwick, morose, did not touch his glass. This was an opportunity. Harry felt that nothing would occur for several minutes at least. He hurried back to the spot where he had rigged his aerial.
He had removed the sending apparatus about thirty feet from the car. Opening communication, he tapped a code message, telling all that he had observed, and giving his exact location. He received a prompt response. He was to watch what happened, and to wait until the men left; then to follow Grady in preference to Chadwick.
Most important, Harry was to send a quick signal by wireless before he left, leaving the equipment set up, if necessary, to make a hasty departure.
Gauging the distance from the spot to the roadhouse, Harry figured he could make a quick trip back and forth. He tapped word to stand by; that he would signal again within five minutes. Leaving the key, he went back to the Green Mill.
Chadwick and Grady were still at their table. Harry watched them a few minutes.
Chadwick swallowed his drink and rose to leave. Harry slid away from the window, and headed toward the coupe. He knew that if Chadwick should be going home, he would pass by the little road that led in from the Pike. At his car, Harry stood listening. Hearing no sound of an automobile, he decided to send word to Burbank. He turned to go to the sending set.
As he stepped away from the coupe, a man leaped upon him!
Harry had no opportunity to seize his automatic. The gun was in his pocket, for he had expected no trouble back here at the car.
He realized, now, that he had been followed from the roadhouse on this last trip. He was resolved to defeat this enemy.
Fighting furiously, Harry broke free and dealt the man a powerful punch on the jaw. The fellow staggered, and Harry leaned forward to deliver another telling blow.
At that instant, another figure rose from beside him. Harry saw a descending arm. He turned quickly to ward off the falling blow.
A solid object struck the side of Harry's head. The Shadow's operative sank with a groan.
Half stunned, he was incapable of motion as he felt himself gripped by both antagonists. Expert hands bound him. A handkerchief was thrust in his mouth and its ends tied behind his head.
Harry was lifted bodily and thrust in the front seat of his own car.
In a daze, he heard an automobile starting from the roadhouse. A few minutes later, the sound was repeated. Harry's mind barely managed to grasp the fact that both Chadwick and Grady were now gone from the Green Mill.
Who, then, were these men who had captured him?
More minutes dragged by. The door on the other side of the car opened. One of the captors entered the coupe and took the wheel. The starter buzzed and the car moved slowly backward, sloughing; through the mud toward the side road.
Harry Vincent, a helpless victim, was being taken to an unknown destination — and the only clue to his capture was the silent key upon the sending apparatus that he had left amid the trees!
Unseen danger had come to Harry — before he had been able to signal that he expected trouble!
Chapter XIV — Delmuth Sees A Shadow
An elderly man was seated in the living room of an apartment. His armchair was drawn back from the open window. Below sparkled the lights of Riverside Drive; beyond them, the blackness of the Hudson River.
The gray-haired titan gazed thoughtfully into the night and smiled benignly. A deceiving smile! For this was the same man whom Stuart Bruxton had met in Maryland!
The door opened and another man entered quickly, closing the door behind him. The newcomer turned to face the old man. The person was Sidney Delmuth.
The old man seemed keenly interested in Delmuth's arrival. His eyes lit up with a weird gleam as he detected a tense look upon the face of the advertising man.
The old man was looking for an explanation. It was forthcoming. Delmuth sat down in a chair opposite the old man and began to speak in a low, guarded voice.
"Everything is fixed," he said. "You would have heard from me if there had been a hitch.