The flow of traffic along the highway, the fact that the road led directly into Manhattan — these were the factors that prevented either of the trailers from noticing the presence of the other.
When the course finally ended on an uptown street in New York, and Carter Boswick left the cab and entered a towering skyscraper, it was obvious that the young man intended to visit some office in the building.
Both of the pursuers worked similarly. Harry parked his coupe across the street, and watched the door of the building. Stacks dropped from the sedan and lounged at a convenient post, while Scully managed to find a stopping point for the sedan, about half a block away.
Carter Boswick’s business was brief. He told Farland Tracy exactly the same story that he had given Drew Westling and Headley. The lawyer agreed that the European trip should best be handled at once, so as to assure a return at the earliest opportunity.
He expressed only one doubt; namely, the possibility of Carter receiving some communication from a source not known.
“Remember,” he said sagely, “you may have an immense fortune almost within your grasp. It might he advisable to remain at the old home.”
“I thought of that,” returned Carter abruptly. “Nevertheless, I feel confident that my father planned well. No, Mr. Tracy. there is really no possibility of my failing to receive the information which belongs to me.”
“You speak with assurance,” said Tracy. “If you feel that way about it, I can see no objections to your voyage. Have a good trip, Carter, and do not worry. I shall attend to all affairs of the estate, and be ready with an exact report when you return.”
Coming from the building, Carter Boswick took a cab and went directly to the Grand Central Station. There, at the information booth, he drew a large map from his pocket and, after partially unfolding it, consulted certain notations which he had made on the back of it.
Carter had found this map before leaving the house; it was one of many old guides and charts that had belonged to his father’s library.
Pocketing the map, Carter made inquiries regarding Western railroad lines running northwest from Chicago. He did not ask a single question concerning trains to Montreal. He named certain towns in the State of Wisconsin. The man at the booth consulted a huge railroad guide.
WHILE this was going on, other persons began to form in line. Half a dozen men were behind the rotunda counter, but all were busy. Carter paid no attention to the people close by, hence he did not realize that two men were overhearing his plans.
One was Harry Vincent. The Shadow’s agent, a young man of athletic appearance, might well have been a chance traveler seeking routine information for a trip.
The other was Stacks Lodi.
But Carter would not have recognized Hub Rowley’s underling, even though the man had been a passenger aboard the Southern Star. Stacks had shaved away his darkened, waxed mustache. The smooth upper lip gave him an entirely different appearance.
When Carter Boswick had finished his questioning, he sauntered away from the information booth, his luggage in the custody of a porter. Harry Vincent stepped up and asked for a railroad time-table. Stacks Lodi did the same. Both, in walking away, followed the direction that Carter had taken.
Harry, consulting his time-table, passed the ticket window where Carter now stood, and overheard the young man making reservations. Harry kept on his way.
Stacks Lodi, arriving later, stood at the next window and heard the negotiations between Carter Boswick and the agent.
From then on, all paths diverged. Carter’s western limited did not leave for a few hours. The young man checked his luggage and went from the station.
Harry Vincent sought a telephone booth. Calling a number, he stated what he had learned. He hung up the receiver and awaited a return call.
Stacks Lodi also used a telephone, in a different part of the station. His call was to Hub Rowley. He listened intently to the big-shot’s response. His face gleamed as he heard Hub’s words. He was smiling a wicked grin when he walked away from the booth.
The aftermath of this sequence of events came when the western limited pulled out of the Grand Central Station on its trip to Chicago.
Carter Boswick, deeply engrossed in a book that he had purchased, was seated in the club car. His mind was at ease. He had made it quite evident that he was going to Europe, via Montreal. Instead, he was off to visit the exact spot mentioned in his father’s secret message — some unknown locality in the wilds of Wisconsin.
Across the way sat Harry Vincent — a quiet young man who was apparently unconcerned with those about him. At the card table, Stacks Lodi had already begun to amuse himself with a game of solitaire.
OPPOSING forces were at work. Carter Boswick, sure that he was free, with all knowledge of his secret trip a minus quantity, was already under the vigilant surveillance of two men — one who represented justice; the other, a tool of crime.
Once again, Carter Boswick was heading into trouble. Stacks Lodi, the trouble-maker, was on his trail. But still, Carter was under the secret protection of The Shadow. Harry Vincent, The Shadow’s agent, had been deputed to be close at hand, forewarned that danger might strike.
Action was in abeyance on this journey. These men — neither of whom suspected the other’s presence — were the advance guards. They were but the instruments of greater minds, the nullifying influences put forth by Hub Rowley and The Shadow.
Conflict was brewing between the big-shot and the dread avenger. The struggle would center about Carter Boswick, who had plunged himself into this fray for millions which rightfully belonged to him.
The impending battle was one that promised strange results — and into its fury would come others; men whose important parts in the drama of crime had not yet been revealed. Carter Boswick was totally unsuspecting of what lay ahead.
But The Shadow, hidden being of darkness, knew that unexpected consequences would soon manifest themselves. Plans long fostered were due to reach their startling climax when Carter Boswick gained the goal that he sought!
CHAPTER XI
THE SHADOW’S PLAN
Two nights had passed since Carter Boswick had set out from New York City. The third evening had fallen. Along a lonely road in northwestern Michigan, a swift coupe was speeding at sixty miles an hour.
Harry Vincent was the man behind the wheel. His eyes were steadily focused upon the gravel road that stretched before him. His hands responded to every bump of the jolting highway.
Despite the ordeal of the rapid drive, Harry wore a smile. He was nearing the end of his journey.
Obedient to The Shadow’s order, Harry had followed Carter Boswick to Chicago; and had again taken up the trail when the young man had boarded a train north. At Green Bay, Wisconsin, a long break had occurred. Carter Boswick had been forced to wait over several hours for a connection.
This had given Harry an excellent idea. He was confident that no harm would befall the man whom he was protecting while Carter was traveling by train. The real danger lay at the stopping points. Hence Harry had used the interval to obtain an automobile capable of high speed. His study of the road maps convinced him that he could beat the time of Carter Boswick’s train.
Now, with only a few miles to go, Harry was half an hour ahead of his schedule. He had waited at Green Bay until Carter Boswick had left; then he had burned up the roads in his untiring effort to reach the final destination before Carter arrived. This place was Junction City, a Michigan town some miles north of the Wisconsin border.
What was to happen at Junction City?