“We’ll get him before he has a chance to get us. If he’s smart enough to uncover the goods we’re after, we’ll grab him before he can scram with the coin. That’s our ticket. Lay low on the island to-morrow night. You can keep out of sight, Zach — I’ll watch this house.
“Then, if the guy makes a trip to look through the woods, he won’t find us the next day or night — whichever time he comes. We’ll be on the old steamboat, high and dry. We’ll play ring around the rosy with this smart egg until we get him where we want him.”
Possum Quill arose from the floor. He strolled over to the bench, made a motion as though to pick up the lantern and changed his mind. He thrust his hands in his pockets, and brought out a revolver in his right, a flashlight in his left.
“I’m going to take a look,” he growled, with sudden determination. “See if I find anything you missed, Zach.”
Swift strides took Possum toward the open doorway. The flashlight gleamed in the crook’s hand. It blazed a path of light into the next room, but it did not reveal The Shadow. Timing his actions with those of the crook, the phantom had glided away toward the front of the house.
Possum turned the corner. Again, his light gleamed toward the spot where The Shadow had been. The illumination struck the front doorway. This time, The Shadow was in its path. The black-garbed stranger had stepped from the house; he was standing against a mass of foliage.
Possum Quill started and uttered a low exclamation. He saw the outline of a vague shape; he caught the sparkle of two eyes that were upon him. As Possum thrust the flashlight forward and swung his gun upward, the waver of the illumination produced a strange result.
The figure of The Shadow melted away. Dropping below the swath of light, the tall figure dwindled to pygmy shape.
“What’s the matter, Possum?”
The call came from Zach Telvin, in the kitchen. Possum Quill did not heed it. Too late to fire, he leaped to the door of the house. Foolishly, he made himself a perfect target for a concealed enemy.
There was no shot, however, from the blackness.
POSSUM was swinging his light back and forth, covering bushes and grass-grown paths when Zach arrived. Possum gave a growling laugh when he again heard Zach questioning about the trouble. Lefty, too, had arrived.
“Fooled myself,” said Possum. “That’s all. These trees and bushes — with the rain on them. Thought I saw a guy looking at me from outside. He couldn’t have got away — I’d have seen him and heard him. Just the way the light hit the trees — that’s all.”
The crook prowled about the vicinity of the cottage, with Zach Telvin and Lefty Hotz at his heels. There was no sign of a living person. The men went back into the old house. After they had gone, a stealthy figure emerged from the shelter of a large tree.
The Shadow had let the crooks alone. Until he knew what cross-purposes were at work, he preferred to allow them to continue on their failing quest. The Shadow had other investigations to make — other plans to follow. He knew what the crooks intended to do. He could deal with them later.
Shortly afterward, the strange round boat of rubber pushed away from the isle of doubt. Its course was again against the current of the river. When it came to shore in the lifting fog, it was beside the little dock of Weston Levis’ plantation.
A flat-bottomed rowboat was drawn up on shore. The Shadow eyed the craft, with the guarded circle of his flashlight. The boat was under the shelter of a tree; the lower portion of its side showed that it had but recently been removed from the water.
Some one from this plantation had been down the river. It was not Harry Vincent — for The Shadow’s agent had been instructed not to visit the island. The Shadow, now, was finding evidence of the cross-purposes that existed in the search for hidden wealth. He was on the trail of Harvey Wendell.
The Shadow’s laugh was a low whisper as the tall being moved through the clearing and melted into nothingness before the sheltering wall of the old plantation house.
When the fog had nearly cleared, an hour later; when the first streaks of early-morning light were forcing their way over the eastern horizon, there was no sign of the black-clad stranger who had visited the plantation.
The rubber boat was gone. The river was a stretch of blankness, from the dock at the plantation, over the broad expanse of water, to the isle of doubt and the time-beaten wreck of the River Queen.
Dawn had arrived. The Shadow’s work was done. His plans had been completed. He had returned to the secret spot where he had left the parked sedan.
CHAPTER XII. THE SHADOW’S MESSAGE
WHEN Harry Vincent awoke at eight o’clock, the first object that he noticed was an envelope which lay upon the chair beside his bed. It was not strange that Harry should have looked at that spot. He had laid an envelope there the night before.
But Harry had placed his envelope face up; this envelope, apparently the same one, was face down. A very simple phenomenon, but in The Shadow’s service, such occurrences often had important meanings.
The envelope which Harry had placed upon the chair had contained his complete, coded report to The Shadow. Always, when The Shadow was to receive a report in person, his agents left their envelopes in conspicuous places.
This envelope, apparently, had been touched, but not opened. That was sufficient cause for Harry to open it. He did so, and immediately learned that this was a different envelope from the one that he had placed upon the chair.
The Shadow had been here. Weirdly, the master of the night had entered the house unseen and unheard.
He had taken Harry Vincent’s report. In its place he had left an envelope which contained definite instructions. Harry read the coded lines of The Shadow’s message.
The writing faded as soon as Harry had completed his perusal. The Shadow’s instructions were simple — as simple as the procedure of putting the new envelope upside down so that Harry would immediately notice it.
The Shadow’s ways — The Shadow’s orders — both were invariably designed with full knowledge of his agent’s abilities and limitations. As surely as had Harry noticed that envelope, so surely could he follow the instructions which he had gained.
Tonight, Harry learned, he was to bring the motor boat to the wreck of the River Queen. The old steamship, so The Shadow informed him, was quite accessible from the shore side, even with the motor boat, if approached directly amidships.
By making another of his trips down the river, Harry could return after dark and visit the steamboat by stealth, as he had previously visited the isle of doubt.
That part was up to Harry; and it gave the young man another idea — to go up the river, this time to come back just after dark, and drift by the plantation until he reached the neighborhood of the derelict.
Harry’s duty on the old boat was tersely specified in The Shadow’s message. The agent was to descend the companionway and follow the passage to the boiler room of the old vessel.
Having located that spot, he was to keep careful watch to make sure that no one approached. The motor boat was to be in readiness below the bow of the stranded River Queen.
Two factors impressed Harry. One, that there was a slight possibility of visitors aboard the River Queen; two, that The Shadow, himself, might have need of the craft that Harry would have available: namely, the motor boat.
Did The Shadow need Harry as a guard? Did he need him to aid in some punitive expedition?
Both situations were possible; but they were unusual. Generally, The Shadow worked alone. Harry realized that some strange business might be afoot tonight, some business that would do much to clear up this mystery.