“What fooled me,” stated Stollart, “was when the fellow wanted to dictate notes in the living room. He hoaxed Releston and Marquette into leaving. Then he began to talk.”
“He dictated?”
“No. He told me what to do — to sit tight while he ducked out through that front door. Bolt it after him, stall around for ten minutes or so, then go back and tell the senator that he had left for the Navy Department with my notes.”
“And you fell for it!”
“I thought it was you, chief.”
“He didn’t give you the countersign?”
“No; but I didn’t expect it. I knew you were coming, made up like Dadren. Ducking out through the front door was just what you might have done.”
“I guess you’re right,” admitted Hildrow.
THE car was circling. Hildrow was taking an aimless course, apparently intending to remain in Washington. Plotting some counterstroke, he at last announced the beginning of a method.
“I’m sending you back, Stollart,” he decided. “Keep an eye on what happens. We’ll frame our scheme while we ride along.”
“But The Shadow—”
“He won’t come back. Don’t worry. He’ll be after me. He’s wise enough to know he can’t trace me through you. Your hide will be safe, Stollart.”
“I’m not sure about that.”
“Why not?”
“Because of something that just hit me. Listen, chief; you figured that The Shadow beat you to it, coming in there with the same disguise you’re wearing.”
“That’s it.”
“Do you think he’s better at make-up than you are?”
Hildrow considered. Then he shook his head. That was an admission that he did not care to make.
“I don’t think he is, chief,” insisted Stollart. “Maybe he’s a rum at that game. You’ve got it down perfect.”
“All right. What are you driving at?”
“Well, if it was The Shadow who came in there, he took a long shot. Too long a shot. One that wouldn’t have worked.”
“On account of Vincent?”
“That’s it. He couldn’t have fooled Vincent. You didn’t want to risk it, chief. That’s why you came after two o’clock.”
“Well, if it wasn’t The Shadow,” sneered Hildrow, “who was it?”
“Commander Dadren himself,” returned Stollart.
HILDROW shoved the brake and brought the car up to a curb. He turned to stare at his accomplice. Stollart was solemn. He could see a puzzled expression on Hildrow’s face.
“Figure it this way, chief,” suggested Stollart. “The Shadow got into the game. He was trying to trace Dadren. He found him.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m guessing. But it’s a good guess. Suppose The Shadow discovered where you’ve hidden Dadren. Would he be able to get him out?”
“Yes” — Hildrow was slow with the admission — “but when the crew found Dadren missing—”
“He wouldn’t be missing.”
“Why not?”
“Because, chief, The Shadow could have taken his place. Armed and ready for immediate action, he wouldn’t mind a fight—”
“But Korsch knows what Dadren looks like.”
“So does Vincent. Better than anybody else.”
Hildrow whacked a big hand squarely upon Stollart’s back. For once, the master plotter was enthusiastic.
“You’ve got it, Stollart!” he exclaimed. “The whole thing fits. The Shadow found the hideout. Got in with Dadren and talked to him. Dadren spilled the news about the letter that he had sent to Releston.”
“That’s the only way it could have leaked out,” put in Stollart.
“So The Shadow steered Dadren back to Washington,” continued Hildrow. “The Shadow stayed in his place. But even then, The Shadow was foxy. He told Dadren to get the plans clear away from Releston’s.”
“Because he suspected that you had a spy there,” added Stollart, in a troubled tone. “Dadren didn’t have to fool anybody. He was himself. But he fooled me. The Shadow had tipped him to look for a spy, chief. The Shadow knew you were coming in as Dadren.
“That’s why Dadren told me to work with him. I gave myself away, thinking Dadren was you. He’s ducked somewhere. He’s waiting out of sight in Washington. Waiting for The Shadow to show up.”
Grimly, Hildrow wheeled the car from the curb. He took a new course. Stollart, still troubled, spoke as they rode rapidly along.
“You’re not taking me back to Releston’s, chief,” he pleaded. “I tell you, I’ll be a goner if you do. I’ve worked with you. The jig’s up. I’ve got to duck for cover—”
“That’s what you’re doing,” interposed Hildrow. “I’m doing two jobs at once. We’re heading for the hideout where I had Dadren. It’s a safe place.”
“Far from here?” Stollart was still troubled.
“Up the Potomac,” responded Hildrow. “We’re moving there fast. Not on your account, Stollart — because you’re safe enough. I’m out to get The Shadow before he makes trouble.
“Korsch is guarding the fellow that he thinks is Dadren. The Shadow will be smart enough not to make a break until he knows Dadren is in the clear. I got in mighty close after Dadren. The Shadow doesn’t know how quick I worked.
“We’ll be back at the hideout before he pulls his getaway. Likely, anyway, that he’d wait until nearly dark. Thinking I was buffaloed. Figuring me running around Washington like a loon.”
HILDROW pressed the accelerator as they came to a clear stretch of road. The coupe swayed along at terrific speed. The crook handled it with care at every turn. Soon he was on the course that led above the Great Falls.
He did not speak again until they had reached the wheel tracks that led to the decrepit bridge. Then the master plotter turned to Stollart, who was sitting, anxious-eyed, beside him.
“All quiet along the Potomac,” chuckled Hildrow. “There’s the old bridge. Korsch has a cottage hidden on the island. We’re here in time. We’ll find our man.”
With this prophecy, Hildrow turned the car across the bridge. All was silent about the cottage when the master plotter and his accomplice alighted.
Only the faint rippling of the river disturbed the peaceful scene. Korsch, coming from the porch, stared in amazement as he saw a man whom he mistook for Commander Dadren. The hatchet-faced man reached for a gun; then he caught a signal from Hildrow.
Korsch understood. Nodding, he preserved the silence as the two approached. In a whisper, Hildrow introduced Stollart; then explained matters to Korsch. Quietly, they went into the house.
The lull had been maintained. Eric Hildrow, craftier than ever, was preparing for a battle with The Shadow.
CHAPTER XXI
THE SHADOW’S FIGHT
AS soon as the arrivals had entered the cottage, Korsch went into a room on the right. Three men were lounging there. Korsch beckoned to them. Drawing his revolver, the hatchet-faced man buzzed instructions to these underlings.
Korsch led the group upstairs while Hildrow and Stollart were entering the little office. Still wearing the disguise that made him resemble Commander Joseph Dadren, Hildrow took a chair behind the desk. Producing a revolver, he laid it beside him. The pair waited.
Upstairs, Korsch and his squad were cautiously approaching a closed door, where a guard was on duty. Motioning this man aside, Korsch unlocked the door and opened it. He entered a somber room. Its windows were closed with shutters; only the lifted slats admitted light.
A figure stirred on a cot. Korsch studied a dim face. This prisoner looked like Dadren, but the light was too dim to be certain. Covering his quarry with the gun, Korsch ordered him into the hall.