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Harry Vincent knew the source of that timely shot. The Shadow must have scaled the pillars at the front of the hotel. Lying on the porch, he had watched Harry’s effort to lead Carter Boswick to safety.

Three armed gangsters! What did they matter now? The Shadow was there to pick them off. The cue was to drop out of danger, to give the hidden avenger a clear sweep.

A muffled shot sounded from the lobby below — a sign that Stacks Lodi had taken action there. But Harry Vincent scarcely heard it. He was dropping to the floor, away from the threatening guns, as he cried out to Carter Boswick to follow his example.

Harry’s warning was too late. Carter had already sprung to action. He was leaping forward to mill with the armed gangsters.

Harry groaned as he reached in his pocket for his own gun. How could The Shadow save Carter Boswick now?

Carter was wrestling with one of the gunmen, and had the fellow’s wrist in an iron clutch. The other gangsters swung to shoot. The grappling men were between them and the window, a protection against The Shadow’s fire.

The wrestling pair swerved. Carter Boswick’s stooping back caught the eye of the nearer gangster. The man stabbed the muzzle of his gun toward Carter’s back, and snarled in elation. But the very situation that gave the would-be killer his opportunity to slay was also the break for which The Shadow had been watching.

A spurt of flame accompanied the roar that came from the window. The gangster sprawled forward, beside the struggling men, the triumphant leer fading from his writhing lips. The other free gunman shouted in rage. Raising his revolver, he blazed uselessly at the open window. There was no response. The Shadow, lying low, had stayed his fire.

With gun in hand, Harry Vincent leaped to his feet and attacked the firing man from behind. He struck a hard blow at the villain’s head, but the man turned just in time to ward it off. He hurled Harry to the floor, and jabbed his revolver straight at Harry’s forehead.

Harry saw the approaching muzzle. He could see the evil, merciless face behind it. Yellowed teeth were displayed in a loathsome grin.

Then a shot boomed, seemingly from far away. The revolver flopped from the gangster’s fingers. The man’s eyes bulged; his lips closed; his body rolled sidewise to the floor.

As Harry’s gaze turned, he saw the termination of the fight between Carter Boswick and the one remaining gunman. All through the struggle, Carter had held the advantage until now. But a turn in the fray had enabled the gangster to wrest away. At this instant, his gun hand was free, aiming to kill.

Harry’s own revolver was in his hand. He swung it upward to prevent the kill. It was a belated gesture. Harry could never have beaten the gangster to the shot. But The Shadow’s unfailing hand still remained in readiness.

The final bullet sped from the window. The gangster received it in the heart. When Harry fired, his shots reached the falling body of a dead man. The Shadow, hidden marksman of the night, had accounted for all the opposition.

HARRY and Carter reached their feet. There was no hesitation now. Carter followed Harry’s lead. They hurried down the hall, carrying the suitcases with them. Scully, huddled and moaning on the floor, made no effort to stop them. His shattered wrist had ended his participation in the battle.

No explanations were necessary as Harry guided Carter through Room 222 and threw a suitcase out the window. Within twenty seconds, Carter’s two bags and Harry’s single one were gone; Carter dropped out when he heard the order, and Harry followed.

Three minutes later, the two young men were rolling out of Junction City in Harry’s coupe. Carter Boswick, tense and half bewildered, was staring at his companion. He realized now the importance of Harry’s warning, and knew that he had found a man on whom he could rely.

“Say, old fellow” — Carter’s voice was filled with gratitude — “you pulled me out of it tonight. I don’t know where we’re going, but—”

“We’re going to stick “together,” was Harry’s response.

“Right!” agreed Carter, with emphasis. “Say, old man, something tells me that this may just be the beginning. I’ve got a lot on my mind. I’ve kept it from every one, because I didn’t know whom I could trust. But you’re one hundred per cent. You’re game enough to chance it with me.”

Harry’s right hand moved from the steering wheel. Carter caught it in a firm grasp. The two men held a prolonged clasp that betokened mutual confidence. No further words were necessary.

Harry Vincent, in the service of The Shadow, had formed an alliance with Carter Boswick, the man who sought the wealth that was his heritage. From now on, the quest would be theirs together!

CHAPTER XIII

THE MINING CABIN

THE next afternoon found Harry Vincent and Carter Boswick rolling along a narrow, rutted road in Harry’s coupe. While Harry carefully guided the car, Carter studied a large map which was unfolded before him.

They were in a wild, unpopulated region. It was doubtful if a car could have been along this almost forgotten road since the beginning of the month. The road was curving upward toward the summit of a small hill. As they neared a clearing, Carter gave the signal to stop.

“This is as close as we can get,” he declared. “Why not shove the car off in the clearing, and cut through the trees to that place up there?”

He pointed to a crag-like spot on the side of the hill. It was plain that the slight eminence would serve as an excellent lookout for the terrain below. Without a word, Harry turned the car from the road and stopped it at the fringe of the woods.

It was only a short tramp to the crag. Carter’s supposition proved correct. Seated on the rock, he and Harry could observe a considerable extent of wooded ground. The country here was hilly; over beyond a sloping valley, they saw another rise of ground that was rather low, but, nevertheless, mountainous in appearance.

“Down in there” — Carter was pointing to the valley — “is the probable location. I am sure that I have the latitude and longitude correct, but we may have to do considerable searching to find the exact place meant.”

Harry nodded. Carter had explained the entire situation to him. In return, Harry had frankly told Carter that he was the agent of an unknown person who had gained knowledge of certain plans to rob Carter of his heritage.

“I feel positive,” continued Carter, “that there must be some distinctive object to guide us — say a big tree — a small lake — a habitation.”

“Look over there!” Harry pointed as he spoke. “That is a cabin of some sort, isn’t it?”

Carter followed the direction of Harry’s gaze. He, too, saw the object. The edge of a roof was barely visible in a large clearing that had been cut away at the base of the opposite hill. Carter turned to Harry with a triumphant smile.

“That’s where we’re going!” he stated. “Let’s go back and get the supplies out of the coupe. Then we can investigate and stay, if it looks good.”

AN hour later, the young men arrived at the clearing. They were carrying packs and boxes — items of provision and equipment that they had purchased in a small town that morning.

As they came out of the trees, they spied a fair-sized cabin that appeared to be in good condition, although it bore signs of desertion.

Finding the door unlocked, Harry and Carter entered. The cabin consisted of a single floor. In the center was a large room with a fireplace. There were three small bedrooms off at one side, and a dining room and kitchen at the other. The place was sparsely furnished, even to cots with springs.