THEY entered the motor boat. Across the lake they chugged, swinging in front of the formidable cliff that loomed like a grisly skull.
The resemblance was hard to observe at night. Harry looked back at the cliff as they shot along through the water. Death Island was merely a shapeless mass that became indistinguishable as they neared Harvey’s Wharf.
Stokes handed Harry his flashlight, when they had docked. Then he gave definite instructions for reaching the village.
“Go right,” he said gruffly. “Walk along the little path. When it meets the side road, turn left. That will take you to the crossroads at the village. Much shorter than going by the road through the woods.”
“How long will it take me?” asked Harry.
“Five or six minutes.”
“It’s pretty near nine thirty now. Suppose I get back at ten thirty.”
“All right then,” agreed Stokes. “Make it ten thirty, or a little after. I may go back to the island. If I’m not here, wait for me.”
Harry went along the path. It was only quarter past nine. He had purposely declared it to be nine thirty in order to gain more time. He did not hear the motor boat begin to chug. Perhaps Stokes had decided to wait, after all.
Harry went directly to the garage. The proprietor was there, and he began to discuss the matter of the car. Then suddenly Harry excused himself.
“I’m going to make a phone call,” he said. “You’ll be here a while, won’t you?”
“Until midnight,” replied the garage man, “and if you’re late, I’ll wait for you a while.”
There were a few persons in the general store. Harry did not look at any of them. He went to the cigar counter; and while he was making a purchase, some one approached him.
“Can you tell me the exact time?” asked a voice.
Harry glanced at his watch without looking at the questioner.
“Nine thirty-two,” he said.
He saw the other man’s hands, as the fellow removed his watch and set it, placing the hands so that they indicated nine thirty-seven.
There was something about the man’s actions that Harry recognized. He looked up quickly, and found himself gazing into the face of Bruce Duncan.
Harry repressed an exclamation of greeting. So Duncan was the messenger! That was why Fellows had wanted to see him.
Harry said nothing. He completed his purchase, and left the store. He turned to the right; and walked up a path that led away from the road. Bruce Duncan joined him a few minutes later.
“What’s the dope?” asked Bruce.
“Rather meager,” whispered Harry. “Four men on the island, besides myself. Old Professor Whitburn — he’s strange enough. But the others are tough babies.”
He had been thinking over his information, and now he gave Bruce a terse account of all that had transpired.
He prefaced his remarks of last night’s events by explaining that the natives believed the island to be haunted. This brought a snort from Duncan; but as Harry told of the weird beings that had flitted to the tower, and ended with a vivid description of the apparition that had risen from the lake, Bruce whistled in surprise.
“I wouldn’t believe that junk, Harry,” he said, “if it came from any one but you. It’s the craziest story I’ve ever heard — and the strangest. I can’t figure what’s going on over there.
“Maybe I’ll have a chance to watch from a distance. Not to-night, though, because I have to cut out for Hartford.”
“Just how do you enter in, Bruce?” asked Harry. He knew that Duncan was not an agent of The Shadow, although the young man had once served in that capacity.
“Well,” explained Bruce, “I’ve been let in on a few things, and have been told to keep my mouth shut — for my own good. So I’m helping out.
“I received a phone call from your friend Claude Fellows. I went to his office. He told me that I was in danger.”
“What sort of danger?”
“Something to do with those jewels that I got from Russia, the time you and The Shadow helped me. Some one has wised up to the fact that I have them. The result is that I’m under observation. So Fellows advised me to get out, and do it neatly. I wouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
Bruce Duncan laughed.
“When there’s trouble, I like to be around,” he said. “Fellows insisted that I go away, and tell no one where I was. I said I had no place to go. He told me come back to see him later, which I did. Then he offered me a plan.”
“Which was — “
“To serve as a messenger. He said that you were in danger up here; that it wouldn’t do you any harm if I should be seen in the vicinity.
“I slid out of New York, and here I am. I was instructed to notify Fellows from Hartford, whether or not you kept the appointment. So I’m going back there to-night. Perhaps I’ll be over again.”
“I don’t see where you are in danger, Bruce,” said Harry slowly. “There’s no connection between the jewels and Professor Whitburn. There hasn’t been anything happen that indicates the jewels are involved.”
“Yes, there has,” whispered Bruce Duncan excitedly. “Something has happened; and I am the only man who knows it. I discovered it on my way up here; I’m going to notify Fellows when I report.”
Something in Duncan’s voice told Harry that an unusual discovery had been made. He listened intently for a further explanation.
CHAPTER XXI
THE ROOM IN THE TOWER
DUNCAN spoke in a low voice. “On the way from New York I stopped in a small town in Connecticut. While talking with a garage man, I learned that there was a dangerous curve a few miles farther on. A car had gone over the edge — into a precipice.
“The driver of the car had been killed. Yet the cause of the accident had not been ascertained. I saw the car; it was there in the town; and the broken rear axle made me believe that something had smashed it before the accident.
“‘Who was driving the car?’ I asked.
“‘The fellow hasn’t been identified,’ I was told. ‘The New York license was a phony. They brought the man’s body in; it’s in the morgue now.’
“There must be a morbid streak in my nature. I decided to go over and view the body. It was in the back room of a local undertaking establishment. When I saw the face, I recognized the man immediately.”
“Who was it?” questioned Harry.
“Berchik,” replied Duncan. “The man who brought the jewels from Russia. They got him — because he knew. Do you wonder why I’m in danger?”
“You are in danger, Bruce,” replied Harry soberly. “Be sure to give that information to Fellows, so it will — “
“So it will reach The Shadow.” Bruce Duncan supplied the ending of the sentence with promptness. “I’m going to do that, Harry.”
“Have you seen any danger threatening yourself?” questioned Harry.
“None,” replied Bruce. “Only — “
“Only what?”
“I can’t understand why this girl — Arlette DeLand — took such sudden interest in me. I was introduced to her by a German whom I met coming back on the boat from Europe. I knew nothing about the man’s history. I am wondering if Arlette could be — “
“Arlette is all right,” interposed Harry. He could feel indignation sweeping over him. “She saved me once — the night before I met her with you. Got me out of a bad jam — “
“She didn’t recognize you when she met you!” exclaimed Bruce.
“I know that,” admitted Harry. “But she was the same girl. She called me up, before I came here — to warn me against the place — which proves — “
“Which proves that she’s mixed up in the affair,” interrupted Duncan calmly.
THESE words stunned Harry Vincent.