“How’d you make out?” queried Wendell.
“Not so good,” rejoined Harry. “The places around here look mighty tawdry. I’m going to cover more, though, before I quit.”
“Heard you chugging up the river,” remarked Wendell. “We held out some dinner for you, after the servants left.”
At the house, Harry found his plate waiting in the dining room. Weston Levis joined his guest at the table.
Harvey Wendell stood by the door, making no comment. Harry wondered if the secretary had any suspicions. Wendell betrayed none. Finishing his meal, Harry pulled a paper and pencil from his pocket.
“Can I send a telegram from here?” he asked, looking toward Wendell.
“Sure,” replied the secretary. “We’ll telephone it into the office at Knoxport.” Harry thought that he detected curiosity in Wendell’s expression. Withholding a smile, Harry addressed a telegram to Rutledge Mann, in New York, and wrote out the message:
GOOD PROPERTY ALREADY OCCUPIED STOP HAVE GAINED NO RESULTS STOP
AWAITING REPLY
“Wendell will send the telegram if you wish,” remarked Weston Levis.
“A night message,” said Harry, handing the paper to the secretary. “Collect.” Harry’s slight smile appeared when the man had gone to telephone the message. To the secretary, the wording would seem obvious. By “good property occupied,” Harry had evidently referred to this plantation. “No results” could be applied to to-day’s trip down the river. The words “await reply” were natural.
But the night message carried a deeply hidden meaning. When it reached The Shadow, through Rutledge Mann, the message would be properly interpreted.
“Good property occupied” meant that the crooks had reached the island. “Have gained no result” signified that they were baffled in their quest. “Await reply” showed that Harry needed new orders from The Shadow.
Harvey Wendell was phoning the message. Harry Vincent saw him in the little office, as Harry, with Levis, walked through to the front room. There was reason now for Harry to smile.
Harvey Wendell, like the crooks whom he had seen tonight, was interested in what was passing on the isle of doubt: Two factions were at work — Harry could see the coming clash of crook against crooks, in a battle for illicit wealth.
There, at the telephone, Wendell himself was unwittingly aiding in the cause of justice. He was sending through the message that would bring The Shadow into this strange complexity of cross-purposes.
When The Shadow entered such a field, the designs of evil men were doomed to fail!
CHAPTER IX. THE SHADOW PASSES
AT noon, the next day, Harry Vincent received an answer to his telegram.
Harvey Wendell, at the desk in the office, took the message when it was telephoned in from Knoxport.
The secretary typed off the words and brought the telegram to Harry.
MAKE NO NEGOTIATIONS FOR ANY PROPERTY STOP CONFERENCE EXPECTED STOP
PREPARE REPORT
The telegram was signed by Rutledge Mann. Harry smiled sourly as he showed the message to Weston Levis.
“Who is Rutledge Mann?” questioned the old man.
“New York investment broker,” returned Harry. “He has been conducting the deal with the promoters. All was set when I came out here. I could have arranged a purchase for a plot of land such as this plantation — and the deal would have gone through.
“But when I wired that no suitable ground was available, it brought on a conference. By the time they’re through, they’ll have decided to develop land along the Missouri or the Yazoo, instead of the Mississippi. That’s the way those promoters work.”
“How will that effect you?”
Harry shrugged his shoulders.
“I don’t know,” he confessed. “They may decide to have me continue in this locality; they may send me elsewhere. Possibly I may be recalled to New York. It will only be a matter of two or three days before I hear positively.”
“I hope you will receive word to stay longer,” said Levis. “This has been an enjoyable acquaintanceship, Vincent. I have come to regard you as an old friend.”
Harvey Wendell was eyeing Harry narrowly. The Shadow’s agent evidenced no concern. Harry was positive that Wendell could have no inkling to the real purport of that telegram.
The instructions to make no negotiations meant that Harry was to stay away from the island. The reference to an expected conference signified that Harry would soon hear from The Shadow. The words “prepare report” told Harry that he should have a complete record in readiness.
After lunch, Harry sat on the veranda with Levis. There was no reason for another motor-boat trip to-day, as Harry’s interest in Mississippi properties was temporarily in abeyance. Harvey Wendell was in the little office. Harry knew that Wendell, too, could make no move.
With others in possession of the island, the masquerading secretary could not visit that spot until after nightfall. Harry would be on watch then, to observe the man’s actions.
THERE was only one slight doubt in Harry’s mind regarding his suspicions of Wendell. It was possible that the secretary might have been rowing down past the island, with no particular purpose — and by mere chance have noted the light from the isolated house. Such a theory, however, seemed highly improbable.
While Harry was thinking of Wendell, the man appeared to announce that the typed letters were ready for Weston Levis’ signature. The elderly man arose and went to the screen door.
“You will excuse me, Vincent,” he said. “The work of reading the letters will require only a few minutes. Come along, Wendell.”
Harry remained alone on the veranda. The young man arose and strolled out on the lawn. Hadley chanced to appear, and waved a greeting. He came over to talk to Harry.
“Like it around here?” questioned the overseer.
“Very much,” replied Harry.
“Sleepy place,” said Hadley, “but it’s a nice locality. I like it better than St. Louis.”
“You came from there?”
“Of course. I was sort of landscape architect on the old estate which Mr. Levis sold when he bought this place. I wasn’t very keen on coming up the river. But I’ve been working for the old man a good many years.”
“As long as Wendell?”
“Him? Wendell?” Hadley grunted. “Say — he’s a chiseler, that guy. How he jammed his way into his soft job is more than I can figure. Levis had to have a secretary that could travel places — that’s how he got Wendell.
“In and out — that’s Wendell. You don’t know where he goes or what he’s about. Maybe he doesn’t know himself. Well” — Hadley paused to shrug his shoulders — “I guess the old man needs him, so that’s that.”
Hadley was still standing around when Levis reappeared from the house. The overseer approached the old man to report on work about the plantation. Harry went back to the veranda, and sat in an easy-chair. He stared reflectively toward the sparkling river — off toward the isle of doubt and the wrecked steamer.
THE SHADOW knew all about that island now. Harry’s telegram of yesterday afternoon had given essential information. Last night’s message had supplied the news that the crooks were there. Harry’s suspicions of Harvey Wendell constituted a matter that The Shadow would learn later.
How soon? Harry considered that subject as he leaned back in his chair and stared drowsily toward the blue sky beyond the woods that banked the farther shore of the Mississippi. Harry felt drowsy; in a few minutes he was fast asleep.
Weston Levis continued his conference with Hadley. The two men departed toward the inland field.