“All right, Hub,” agreed Stacks.
“I’m ready. I’ll stick downstairs with Scully until I get the word.”
Stacks Lodi left the big shot’s room and joined Twister and Scully on the floor below. Shortly afterward, Hub Rowley left the road house. It was nearly midnight when a telephone call came for Stacks Lodi. Hub Rowley was on the wire.
“Tell Twister to get in touch with the mob,” were Hub’s instructions. “He can drive after them in your car. Line up and wait until I show up in the coupe. That will be the signal to start. Leave Scully there at the joint.”
Stacks passed the message to Twister. The big shot’s bodyguard sauntered forth. Stacks lounged around with Scully until he heard the noise of cars arriving on the road outside. He went out to find three automobiles in a row, his touring car at the head. Twister’s hissing call summoned him.
“You lead the way,” said the bodyguard. “Drive the first buggy. I’ll run the second. Hold it until Hub gets here.”
The lights of a coupe appeared while Twister was speaking. The car drew up in back of the procession. Stacks Lodi clambered into the driver’s vacant seat of the touring car up front.
Hub Rowley had arrived; now was the time to start.
FOUR men were in Stacks Lodi’s car. The ex-gambler listened to their muffled chatter as he drove ahead. Tough, uncouth mobsters recruited from the bad lands of Chicago, these rowdies were a more vicious group than those who had served with Scully last night at the Junction House.
Two more cars — each with its quota of gunmen. These were following now. Stacks Lodi, glancing behind as he took the first curve in the dirt road, could see the other automobiles taking up the trail. Back at the very end, just starting, was Hub Rowley’s coupe.
Stacks Lodi had only a momentary glance at the rearmost automobile. Its lights made it nothing more than a dim shape behind two beaming bulbs. Hence Stacks could not possibly have seen what was happening at the rear of that coupe.
Nor did Hub Rowley, at the wheel of his small car, know what was going on in back of him.
Just as the coupe was starting, a tall shape of blackness shot forward from the dark at the side of the road. The light from the road house dimly revealed a swiftly moving splotch upon the ground.
The red tail light of the coupe seemed to blink as a mass of darkness covered it; then the light shone crimson again as a lithe form stretched itself upon the closed rear of the car. Not a jolt — not a sound. Noiseless, a being from the night had come aboard the coupe.
As Hub’s car shot forward, the phantom shape remained. A hidden rider, totally invisible upon the back of the last car in the row, was riding forth with the caravan that had set out to deliver a mass attack upon the cabin in the clearing.
Tonight, Hub Rowley had scoffed at the thought of The Shadow being concerned in the enterprise that centered about Carter Boswick’s millions. Hub, perhaps, was of the same opinion now; but his derogatory belief did not alter the actual circumstances.
The Shadow, master of darkness, had joined the invaders. He, too, was traveling toward the scene of battle. When the attackers struck, The Shadow would be there!
CHAPTER XV
IN THE CLEARING
“HERE we are.”
Stacks Lodi, close beside Hub Rowley, pointed out the cabin from the edge of the clearing. The little building was visible under the pale moonlight. Not a light showed in any of its windows.
Hub Rowley chuckled softly. Stacks Lodi was on one side of him; Twister Edmonds on the other. Behind them, like a ghostly crew, were the mobsters whom they had brought on this excursion.
“All right,” growled Hub, in a low tone. “We’ll spread here. You take half of the men, Stacks, and cut over to the right. You, with the other half, Twister, over to the left. Never mind the side toward the hill. If they try to get away up there, they’ll be easy meat.
“Spread out and come in from two sides. If they make a break toward the center, we’ll be able to cut in on them from two directions. Wait a minute” — Hub paused to survey the scene like a general in a campaign — “I’ll follow up in back of your crew, Stacks. They’re more likely to scoot out the rear door in a pinch, and that’s where you’re covering. Besides” — there was a touch of sarcasm in the big shot’s tone — “I want to see how you handle things, Stacks. Maybe I’ll have a chance to help you out this time.”
Stacks Lodi made no reply. In a low, smooth voice, he called for half a dozen men, and these members of the mob separated themselves from the rest. Twister took the others.
Hub watched the two corps start out toward their respective posts. Then, with a final chuckle, the big shot glanced about to make sure that all his men had found a place. For a moment, he fancied that he saw a man still lurking in the darkness. His growl died on his lips when he realized that no one was there.
Nevertheless, as Hub trooped after Stacks Lodi’s squad, the impression still persisted that he had actually sensed the presence of some one behind him. For a moment, he had a notion to return and investigate, but he decided that it would be useless. He came to the opinion that he must have been deceived by a darkened tree trunk.
HUB ROWLEY had a definite purpose in going with Stacks Lodi’s outfit. The big shot intended to direct the advance; not to enter it himself, unless emergency required. He had discussed it briefly with Twister Edmonds, and he knew that his bodyguard would cue the actions of his squad according to those of Stacks Lodi’s band.
Hub intended to attack swiftly and effectively. Hence it would be best to start Stacks first, and let Twister act accordingly.
Soon all was prepared. Silent men were crouched at the edge of the clearing. Hub Rowley watched the cabin intently, ready to give the word. Apparently, two sleeping victims would be handled in short order.
But within that cabin, only one man slept. Carter Boswick was stretched out upon the floor in the central room. Harry Vincent was sitting in the darkness, vigilant, his ears alert for any intruding sound.
“Ps-s-t!”
Harry’s warning hiss awakened Carter in an instant. The young man groped his way toward The Shadow’s agent. Harry gave another hiss for silence.
“Just thought I heard something,” he whispered. “Listen! Maybe it will begin again.”
Carter listened. He gripped Harry’s arm.
“There’s some one outside the cabin,” be said, in a low tone. “I can’t figure which side it is.”
“Come on,” replied Harry. “Crawl to the front door. Open it softly. We’ll peek out there, and we can creep around the cabin in opposite directions Whoever it is, we’ll find him.”
“Maybe it’s” — Carter hesitated — “maybe the one who sent you here.”
Harry’s grunt was negative. Well did Harry know that The Shadow, when he approached a place, moved with velvet silence. He was positive that some prowler had caused the sound, unless a roving animal of the woods might be responsible.
The door opened under Harry’s touch. Both men peered out. Lying close to the floor, they had partially emerged, when Harry suddenly clutched Carter’s arm with a desperate grip.
“Look there!”
Creeping in from the edge of the clearing were two lines of moving men. In the dim light, their numbers seemed weirdly formidable. Harry and Carter had gained the door just in time to witness the simultaneous advance of Hub Rowley’s two squads of gangsters!
Two automatics were in Harry’s hands. Carter Boswick was similarly equipped. Safety catches were unlocked. Here, in readiness, the young men held weapons that could repel the invaders. Yet the size of the attack was appalling.