“I told you to destroy those notes,” declared Graham. “You refused. Why? I’ll tell you. Because they were made out to my uncle; because they bore dates that will stand as proof of the robbery I committed. Where are the notes now?”
“At the factory,” asserted Delkin.
“I want them,” said Graham. “At once.”
“You will not get them by demand,” returned Delkin. “Wait until you have come to your senses. This is outrageous—”
“So you’re keeping them, eh?” jeered Graham. “Well — go ahead. They don’t matter. Carma is your trump card. She’s here — to make me pay. I know your financial situation, Delkin. I’ve been ready to offer you aid should you request it.
“Instead of coming to me fairly, you turned crook yourself. Thought you could lie under cover and pick up a lot of easy cash. Didn’t trust me, because I told you that I’d been a crook. Well, the damage is done. I hope you’re satisfied. I warn you, though, that I’m going to fight this game to the end.”
TURNING, Graham thrust himself past Eunice and reached the door. He swung to deliver a last tirade before departing. His face bore the sordid venom that had characterized it during his career of crime. The words that spat from Graham’s lips were filled with malice.
“I warned you when you first offered me your friendship,” Graham reminded. “I warned you that you would be sorry — both of you. I softened; but I’m toughened again. I’m warning you now — to look out!
“You’ll hear from me, Ralph Delkin — and you’ll never forget the revenge that will be mine. You’ve joined in a blackmail plot, and if I don’t come through, you’ll tell the world that I was mixed in crime.”
“You won’t have to tell the world” — Graham’s tone was bitter — “because I’ll attend to that myself. You’ll learn just how tough I can be. When I strike, you will feel it.”
As Graham glowered, Eunice Delkin stepped forward. She advanced straight to the young man and looked steadily into his eyes. Graham stared coldly. He expected to see antagonism in Eunice’s glance; instead, he observed nothing more than sorrowful disapproval.
“Graham,” said Eunice quietly, “you cannot mean these things that you have said. You know that there is no revenge in your heart. You know that father and I are your friends.”
Graham Wellerton could not face this mild criticism. His tight fists loosened, his heart seemed to sink. Bitterness began to fade. Graham knew that the girl was right. Yet the last vestiges of resentment came in a final surge, and with that emotion, Graham Wellerton turned on his heel and stalked out into the night.
The tense scene was at an end. Graham Wellerton had capitulated, although he had managed not to show it. Rebuked at heart, he turned his footsteps homeward, fighting hard to balance his regard for Eunice with his resentment toward Ralph Delkin. In that effort, Graham was failing. Right feeling was triumphing over malice, despite the ordeal which Graham had undergone.
RALPH DELKIN, standing in his living room, was pale and troubled when Eunice approached her father; the man spoke in a tone of worriment.
“Graham Wellerton intends to do us harm,” asserted Delkin. “I am worried, Eunice — worried—”
“There is nothing to worry about, father,” interposed the girl quietly. “Graham will come to his senses. Reason will tell him that you are his real friend — that you would not betray him.”
“I must have advice,” declared Delkin. “If I should call Harwin Dowser now—”
“Never!” exclaimed Eunice in alarm.
“Dowser is Graham’s attorney,” admitted Delkin. “Nevertheless, I know him well. His services can be mine for the asking.”
“It is not that, father,” decided Eunice firmly. “Remember our promise to Graham; that we would tell no one of his past. Graham has accused you of betraying him — surely, you would not do so now, even though you might speak in confidence to a lawyer.”
Ralph Delkin nodded thoughtfully. He slumped into a chair. His gaze seemed far away. Eunice wondered what was passing in her father’s mind.
“Promise me,” said the girl, “that you will say nothing unless Graham makes some attempt to follow his foolish threat. Will you promise, father?”
Delkin gave a slow nod. He was staring toward the door; Eunice was watching him. Neither knew that other eyes were upon them; that an intruder was spying through the half-opened window. This stormy scene with Graham Wellerton had been observed by an outsider who had more than a passing interest in the affair!
When Eunice left her father alone, Ralph Delkin still seemed in a dazed state. The girl knew that he was pondering over the vague threat which Graham Wellerton had made. She felt sure, however, that all would be well.
There was one, however, in Southwark, who understood that some great calamity was threatening. Harry Vincent, agent of The Shadow, was that man. At midnight, Harry stopped in the telegraph office to send a telegram to Rutledge Mann, in New York.
There was nothing in the telegram to indicate it as other than an ordinary message pertaining to some minor business. Actually, however, the wording of the wire had a special significance. That telegram was an emergency message to The Shadow — a prompt report to tell the master of darkness that grim events were in the making.
Harry Vincent knew that The Shadow would respond. Whatever might occur in Southwark, The Shadow’s might would be here to play a vital part!
CHAPTER XX
THE ANSWER
THE next day was Saturday. Graham Wellerton attended to the affairs of the short business day. As evening approached, he dropped in to see Harwin Dowser.
Graham had no intention of telling the old lawyer what had happened — at least not for the present. He knew, however, that he might have to make use of legal advice at any time. He wanted to be sure that Dowser would be in town.
In response to Graham’s casual questioning, Dowser stated that he intended to spend the week-end at his home. Dowser lived in a large house about two miles out of Southwark, hence he would be accessible should Graham need him.
“What is the trouble, Wellerton?” quizzed the lawyer. “You are not worried about business affairs?”
“Nothing special,” responded Graham. “I have various matters to consider and I intend to stay at home tomorrow on that account. It just occurred to me that I might find some questions that would require your answer.”
Harwin Dowser eyed the young man shrewdly. The old lawyer, experienced in his study of human nature, could sense that his client was troubled. Dowser shook his head knowingly after Graham had departed.
Back in his old house, Graham dined alone and dismissed the servant for the evening. He quietly awaited the arrival of Carma, for he felt sure that the woman would come to learn the answer to her demands. Thinking of Carma brought up the subject of Ralph Delkin.
Graham lighted a cigarette and went out on the front porch to smoke. He was convinced, beyond all doubt, that Delkin had sent for Carma. He felt a strong resentment toward the man, but as he considered the matter, Graham could not regain the indignation of the previous evening.
After all, Graham had been a crook. Why should he criticize Delkin for turning crooked? The manufacturer was desperate. He had discovered a perfect opportunity to bleed a man who had much wealth.
What hurt Graham was the fact that he would gladly have offered funds to Delkin. Carma was the reason why Graham hated this whole turn of events. He was determined to balk the woman’s game no matter what the penalty might be.
The night was cloudy. A thrumming announced that an airplane was passing overhead. The coupled circumstances made Graham remember that night when he had robbed his uncle’s safe in an effort to aid Ralph Delkin. What strange consequences had come from that! In one short month, Graham’s fortunes had risen and fallen. Tonight, another crisis was at hand.