Mildred Chittenden watched from the window. She had observed the whole tragic scene. She had seen Harvey follow Zachary, and had witnessed the prompt return of her husband. Now, her eyes unconsciously wandering across the lawn, Mildred saw a silent figure that had seemingly arrived from nowhere.
The Shadow — he who had foiled the fierce attack — had returned! Like Mildred, he could see Harvey standing beside the beeches!
Harvey Chittenden walked across the lawn with weary, shaking step. Mildred watched him from the window, she knew that The Shadow, statuesque in pose, was also watching. Harvey came through the door and up the steps to the second floor. He walked by Mildred and entered his room, like a man in a fatal trance. He turned on the light, and his gun fell from his hand.
“We must call the police, Harvey,” gasped Mildred. “They will surely be here soon—”
“Call them,” said Harvey.
Mildred went to the telephone and made the call. Her voice was mechanical. She was thinking of that episode on the lawn. Harvey, her husband, had driven his brother Zachary into that terrible grove. Others had gone there — all had died. Mildred had heard Zachary’s accusations before Harvey had made the final threat.
It was a grove of doom! Why had people gone there? Until now, Mildred had seen no definite cause.
But tonight, Harvey had sent his own brother in there! Mildred thought of the terrible Chinaman, Lei Chang — of the dread name, Koon Woon — of that tall man so much like Harvey, who had gone to the grove and returned to the house, carrying strange burdens!
Then to her fear-ridden mind came the thought of The Shadow. She had heard that name screamed by a dying gunman. The Shadow! He, too, had come from the grove; but he was different. Tonight, he had fought to save one man outnumbered by a horde.
The Shadow! Was he still here? Perhaps he would speak and explain these terrible tragedies. Mildred ran to the front window and leaned out. She could hear the noise of distant automobiles, approaching from the inland. She knew that the police were coming. All that seemed trivial.
She was scanning the lawn, looking everywhere, in search of that phantom in black — that strange being who seemed so ghostly, yet who had proven so real.
The girl’s search was in vain. The Shadow’s work had ended for tonight. The Shadow had gone.
CHAPTER XVIII. MILDRED CONFERS
THREE days had passed since that fateful night upon the lawn of Lower Beechview. This afternoon, Mildred Chittenden and Craig Ware were discussing matters on the pleasant green, which so recently had flowed with blood.
The police, upon their arrival that night, had been amazed at the carnage. They had begun an immediate questioning, which Harvey Chittenden had answered. Mildred, in turn, had given her story, carefully adding no details other than those her husband had given, for the girl was not anxious to reveal her troubles.
Harvey had said simply that the men located on his place had been aroused by prowlers. They had investigated, and had met with gunfire. They had been killed; and he, Harvey, had been in danger. He explained how he had come out on the porch, but due to the intervention of one of the fighters, had managed to escape alive.
There was no mention of Zachary in Harvey’s story. Mildred, too, in her corroboration, omitted the name of the youngest Chittenden.
During their inspection, the police had made an important discovery, to their way of thinking. Jessup was identified as a missing racketeer from New York, and his companions as lesser mobsters. Harvey was surprised to learn that he had been harboring men wanted by the police.
This section of Long Island had been infested by rum-runners. When the police learned of Jessup’s moderate wage, they nodded knowingly. Harvey Chittenden had been made the blind, without his knowledge. Jessup, starting to muscle in on this territory, had been wiped out by those who controlled the district.
It was not known how many gangsters had escaped, therefore it was assumed that Jessup had been provided with additional forces. Perhaps some of the dead men had been in league with him. It was hard to identify lesser mobsters according to their particular gangs.
Harvey, though annoyed, had answered further quizzes on the morning after the fight. So had Mildred.
All questions pertained to Jessup. When Mildred spoke of the barrels of cement, the police had a new clue. They could not locate the barrels; but there was nothing to prove that Jessup had dumped them in the Sound.
Smuggled liquor was the answer, so they thought. Craig Ware had arrived home early from Connecticut to take up the burden of further quizzes. He, too, had been surprised to learn of Jessup’s sub-rosa activities.
So there the matter rested. Harvey and Mildred remained at Lower Beechview, anxious to aid the police with any possible information. Craig Ware, who had gone through none of the ordeal, was on hand and virtually in charge.
NIGHTS had been quiet since that outburst; still, Mildred Chittenden was miserable. Harvey had been more morose than ever. He was keeping to the house. Mildred, who had said but little so far, was now giving complete details of the battle to Craig Ware. The showman listened with nods while he puffed his pipe.
“We didn’t mention Zachary’s name,” explained Mildred, “because it would have been terrible for Harvey’s own brother to be connected with those gangsters. Harvey has been right — Zachary was bad. Still, I can’t forget how Harvey sent Zachary to his death — and I think it is preying on Harvey’s mind.”
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Ware. “How do you know that anything has happened to Zachary?”
“I don’t think he is at Upper Beechview,” observed Mildred. “There have been no lights up there.”
“Of course not,” laughed Ware. “He would get out of sight quick enough after that.”
“But he spoke of Wilbur and his father—”
“It is all quite obvious to me,” interposed Ware. “The Chittendens — Zachary, at least — were mixed in the rum-running racket. The gangsters that they knew were working with Jessup. You say you once saw a tall man going to the woods and back. Jessup was tall.
“Don’t you realize, Mildred, that the grove yonder would make a wonderful place for storing smuggled liquor? Lower Beechview was the proper outlet — much better than Upper Beechview. Probably they were using this house before we came.”
Mildred nodded. Craig Ware’s explanation accounted for much. Still, there were problems in the girl’s mind.
“What about Walter Pearson?” questioned Mildred. “I saw him go into the grove, Craig. That was not long before he disappeared.”
“Pearson was probably in on the game,” responded Ware. “He was wise enough to get away when the Chittendens began to talk of getting Harvey — and Jessup, who was working his own racket here. I figure that the old man and Wilbur cleared out, too, leaving Zachary to do the dirty work. A mean bunch — trying to hang trouble on Harvey.”
“But, Craig,” protested Mildred. “I went to the grove one day. It was terrible in there — so frightening. I never knew anything so dreadful—”
“Imagination,” smiled Ware.
“I was sure that someone was in there — not someone, necessarily, just some thing that seemed a menace.”
“People were in there, all right — those in the racket. No wonder you were frightened. You may have heard something you could not explain to yourself.”
“I saw a Chinaman come out,” remarked Mildred, in a far-away tone. “A Chinaman named Lei Chang; who spoke of someone called Koon Woon. Maybe it was my imagination, although I am sure Lei Chang talked to Harvey, a fact that frightens me terribly. But I know that it was not my imagination when I saw The Shadow.”