Then came the recollection of the man in black who had been Stuart's rescuer. It made the mystery all the more perplexing. Stuart wisely said nothing to let Hawthorne know that he had gone to Mayo's in Hawthorne's stead. He began to feel a suspicion of Hawthorne.
Perhaps the real-estate man was doing the bluffing. Harry Vincent's note had said to stay with Mayo, if possible. Stuart realized that Hawthorne might be trying to involve him in a plot against Mayo.
"You're a good fellow, Bruxton," said Hawthorne. "I think you're a square-shooter. That's why I said what I did. I want to know if I stand all right with Mayo. That's all that I have in mind."
"All right," said Stuart; "if Mayo invites me, I'll stay." They were passing the stone pillars, and Stuart glanced from the window of the car. He saw no sign of the man in black tonight.
Nevertheless, he could not be sure that the man was not there. The strange being in the cloak seemed to have power to melt away before observant eyes.
Sherwood Mayo seemed pleased by the arrival of his visitors. He received them in his living room, and smiled when Stuart asked him about his trip to New York.
"That's just commuting, in my ship," he said. "We hit two hundred miles an hour all the way. The trip only takes an hour and a half."
"You must have a great pilot," said Stuart.
"I have," declared Mayo. "George Fleming is one of the best men in the business. He's been with me four years.
"I'm going down to New York come morning. I'll take you along. We'll come back in the evening."
"How do you find this place at night?" asked Stuart.
"Easily. The course is well marked. I have a big searchlight on the lodge, and Louie always has it set to show the landing field. There's plenty of space here. Better than the Brookdale landing field, a couple of miles from here."
The mention of the Brookdale field brought another recollection to Stuart. He remembered the distant hum of a motor that he had heard two nights ago.
"I'll make a suggestion, Bruxton," declared Mayo, "why don't you come up here and stay a few days. I invited you the last time you were here."
"Yes," interposed Hawthorne, "why don't you, Bruxton?"
"I'd be glad to," said Stuart.
"Louie," ordered the millionaire, turning to the Filipino, "ask Fleming to run down to the Inn and bring Mr. Bruxton's luggage up here."
The matter settled, Mayo glanced toward his radio set and turned the dials. A note chimed, and the announcer stated that it was exactly forty-five minutes past eight o'clock. Mayo pointed to the clock on his mantel.
"Look at that," he said. "The clock's on the dot. It's always right. The best clock I ever had!"
"What's coming over the air from WNX?" questioned Stuart, in a casual tone.
"I'll see," Mayo turned the dial and tuned in on a soft musical program. "That's WNX. I'll leave it there." He settled back in his chair; then looked suddenly back and forth from Stuart to Hawthorne, as he uttered a sudden exclamation and snapped his fingers.
"What do you think happened here two nights ago?" he asked. "We had burglars!"
"Burglars?" echoed Hawthorne uneasily.
"Absolutely," declared Mayo. "Two of them. Both masked. Louie came down and found them."
"Did he chase them out?" asked Stuart.
"Yes and no," answered Mayo. "He nabbed one of them, but before he could overpower the fellow, the other showed up and spoiled it all. He knocked Louie unconscious.
"When Louie woke up, the pair of them were gone. They didn't get away with anything."
"That's fortunate," said Stuart. He glanced at Hawthorne as he spoke. He saw that the real-estate man doubted Mayo's story. It made Stuart feel, more than before, that Hawthorne's disbelief in Mayo's statements was unfounded.
Comparing Mayo with Hawthorne — the former a successful man, the latter a man of doubtful business practices — Stuart felt that in case of controversy, he would prefer to side with Sherwood Mayo. The millionaire gave more details of the attempted burglary. They did not include an exact description of Louie's actions with the knife. Mayo mentioned that the Filipino had used his knowledge of jujutsu in disposing of the first invader; but he went no further with the details. It seemed evident to Stuart that Louie must have soft-pedaled that part of the story when he related his adventure to his employer.
The clock on the mantel began to chime nine. Stuart listened intently as the voice of an announcer cut in on the radio program.
"You have listened to a few melodies from " Days of Long Ago." Times are changing; and time is too precious to waste. Why wait? The watch you buy should keep perfect time. It should be on time all the time. Remember, the Paragon watch is the only watch — "
The rest of the announcement carried no emphasized words. Stuart was surprised at the ease with which he had picked up the secret message. Through his mind was flashing the sentence.
"Few days to wait. Keep on the watch."
It was the message that Harry Vincent had written him to expect. Stuart knew that it came from someone more important than Harry. In that he was right.
Without knowing its source, Stuart Bruxton had received a message from The Shadow!
Chapter XVIII — The Stage is Set
It was Saturday noon. Sidney Delmuth, seated at the desk in his private office, was gazing thoughtfully from the window. There was an odd expression upon his suave face. The advertising man was both puzzled and pleased.
The cause of his mingled emotions was a single fact. For three days, Delmuth had been playing a tricky game with an invisible foe. Day or night, he could not loose himself from the impression that he was being watched.
Delmuth was perplexed because he had been unable to glimpse his mysterious enemy -
the man whom he believed was The Shadow. He was pleased because he was sure that The Shadow's vigil was unending. For it was Sidney Delmuth's game to keep The Shadow occupied.
Although Delmuth was playing an important part in a game that was on the way, he had managed to arrange matters so that he had not spoken a single word that might have been informative to a concealed listener.
He had received certain telephone calls — at appointed places. He had let the people talk from the other end. These calls had always come to phones that had no extensions. Delmuth had given instructions by the simple formula of answering "yes" or "no" to the inquiries which came over the wire.
"The Shadow," murmured Delmuth softly, as he sat by the window. "He's watching me.
He knows I'm in this. But he'll find out nothing. Tonight, of all nights!"
Matthews entered the office. "Everyone has left, sir," he said. "I am ready to leave. Are there any things you want done?"
"Nothing, Matthews," replied Delmuth. "You may go. I intend to remain here a short while." A few minutes after the departure of Matthews, Delmuth arose and went into the other office. He looked all around.
He tried the closed door that led to the side corridor. He inspected the other inner office.
Satisfied that he was absolutely alone, he sat down and waited.
As minutes ticked by. Delmuth continued to have the feeling that he was being watched.
He felt sure that it must be his own imagination. It annoyed him, yet he smiled.
If his intuition should be correct, it meant that The Shadow was close at hand. That could be turned to Delmuth's purpose.
The telephone rang. Sidney Delmuth answered it. His words were simply replies to statements.
"Yes," he said. "Yes… Good…Yes… A good idea… You'll call then… Fine." Delmuth hung up the receiver. He turned suddenly and faced the door that led to the side corridor. Had that door opened softly while his back was turned? Delmuth tried the door. It was still locked.