“This is not punishment,” declared Treft. “It will be accepted as a voluntary submission on your part — for the good of our company. Do you raise objection?”
“None at all,” responded Cliff. “I realize now that I would have done better to inform you at the beginning. When I make a mistake, I am willing to accept the consequences.”
“Good!” The Condor seemed pleased as he stood up and clamped Cliff’s shoulder. “You have given a proper answer, Marsland. Go with Corey. He will place you in your new quarters.”
HALF an hour after Cliff’s interview with The Condor, the last of the searchers entered the lodge. They had scoured the grounds from fence to fence. Results had proven nil.
Soon after all were inside, Corey came out with Thuler. The two entered the coupe and drove to the gate. Thuler stood on guard by the headlights while Corey unlocked the barrier. Thuler waited while the chauffeur rolled the coupe through; then stood by with a glowing flashlight while Corey locked the gate.
The coupe started along the road to town. Thuler handled a spotlight by the windshield while Corey drove at a slow pace. They were scouring the sides of the road.
The top of the rumble seat came up. A shadowy, unseen figure emerged. Keen eyes peered through the half-opened window at the rear of the coupe’s seat. The Shadow was again traveling as supercargo.
Listening, he heard the two men talk.
“It beats me,” insisted Thuler. “You know, I’m beginning to think that the fellow was further away than you thought. He might have been clear outside the grounds, Corey.”
“Marsland said he was inside,” returned Corey. “I was sure of it anyway. He must have gotten over the fence by one of those tree branches. That’s what the chief thinks.”
“That’s likely. They ought to be sawed off.”
“They will be — tomorrow morning. Jake has the job.”
Momentary silence; then Thuler remarked:
“It looks like Marsland’s on the level, Corey.”
“Chances are he is,” replied the chauffeur. “The chief’s going to keep him in that first-floor storeroom, though, just to be on the safe side. I locked him in there for the night.”
“How did Marsland take it?”
“All right. It made a hit with the chief.”
“How long will he be kept there?”
“Until we pull out, so the chief told me. That is, if we don’t snag the boob who was around the place tonight.”
“The fellow outside the house was no boob. I’d say he was smart, the way he ducked us.”
The men became silent. The coupe’s speed increased. It skirted the hill until it reached the converging forks outside of Paulington. There Corey stopped.
“No use in going further,” he decided. “We’ll look things over on the way back.”
“Was this where you met Zegler?” queried Thuler.
“Yeah,” replied Corey. “After I’d been in town. Had to wait ten minutes for the guy.”
THE SHADOW was emerging from the rumble seat. As Corey forged forward to the ditch, a shape of blackness dropped to the road. The Shadow sidled away before Corey backed. His figure, revealed vaguely by the rear light, faded suddenly as The Shadow blended with complete darkness.
The coupe started back to the lodge. The Shadow whispered a laugh as the tail-light twinkled in the distance. He had learned enough to know that Cliff Marsland was not in serious danger. Had he heard otherwise, he would have traveled along to the lodge, there to attempt a rescue.
The Shadow had spied the coupe earlier tonight. Here at the fork, during Corey’s wait. He had entered the rumble seat while the chauffeur was out of the car talking to Zegler. That explained his arrival at Mountview Lodge.
A flashlight blinked. Here on the darkened road, The Shadow read Cliff’s message. Again his laugh whispered in sinister tone. From fading writing, The Shadow had learned facts that he had sought.
Strangely, he had gained more from Cliff’s report that even Cliff would have suspected. There were loose threads in that message; facts that fitted with others that The Shadow had already noted. The Shadow had gained deep insight into The Condor’s modes of strategy.
The flashlight darkened. The Shadow moved toward the solid blackness of the hill. His would be another night of vigil. The morrow promised swift developments.
IN his new room at Mountview Lodge, Cliff Marsland lay awake upon a narrow bunk. Cliff was satisfied that he had bluffed The Condor. In so doing, he had counted on The Shadow’s ability at the art of sheer evanishment.
Cliff’s statement that someone was close to the house had coincided with Corey’s. It was the stroke that had curbed The Condor’s suspicions. In protecting himself, Cliff had not jeopardized The Shadow.
He had guessed that the grounds would be thoroughly searched; and he knew, from past experiences, that The Shadow would have no trouble in evading The Condor’s searchers.
The fact that he had not been summoned from this temporary prison was proof to Cliff that The Shadow had accomplished a safe departure. To Cliff, the future promised danger, but not disaster.
The Shadow had managed one visit to Mountview Lodge. He would arrive again, should Cliff require aid.
CHAPTER XVIII. MARQUETTE PREPARES
FIVE o’clock the next afternoon. Harry Vincent was lounging in the lobby of the Paulington House, staring out toward the dull asphalt of the town’s main street. He watched men stroll idly by on the opposite sidewalk.
Something was brewing. Harry had known that since noon, when Sheriff Brock had arrived to talk with Vic Marquette. Today was the twelfth, the date on which Brock had promised a search warrant. Harry believed that it had been delivered.
Moreover, those men opposite were not idlers. They were deputies, on tap, should they be needed.
Apparently, Brock had summoned them after a conference with Marquette. Yet Harry, so far, had gleaned no definite facts.
“Call for you, Mr. Vincent—”
The clerk was drawling from behind the desk. Harry swung in that direction, expecting that Clyde Burke would be on the wire. He saw the clerk hanging up the receiver.
“No need to answer it,” the fellow informed. “It’s from Burgess Dowden’s office. They want you to come over there. That’s all.”
Harry felt keen elation as he strode from the old hotel. He made quick time to Dowden’s office, knowing that at last facts were to be told. Arriving, he found the burgess and the sheriff in conference with Vic Marquette. The Federal man motioned Harry to a chair.
“Apologies, Vincent,” said Vic, with a smile. “Guess you’ve been wondering where you rated, with all this secrecy afoot. Well, I’ve just been waiting until our plans were set, before I let you in on the deal.”
Harry nodded. Vic resumed.
“We’re raiding Mountview Lodge tonight,” explained the operative. “Sheriff Brock is taking a posse of thirty men. You and I will be with them, as deputies. It’s going to be a county proposition.”
“Thirty men?” quizzed Harry in surprise. “Won’t they make a lot of commotion?”
“Not the way I’ve planned it,” chuckled Marquette. Brock and Dowden grinned with him. “Vincent, we’re going to go past that gate as smooth as plush. We’d be able to move in an army, if we wanted.”
Harry looked puzzled. Marquette’s chuckle continued.
“Griscom Treft has a chauffeur,” explained the operative, “who drives down to town nearly every evening. What did you say the fellow’s name was, sheriff?”
“Corey,” returned Brock.
“Well,” stated Marquette, “when Mr. Corey shows up tonight, he will be arrested. We’ll take his keys and unlock that gate for ourselves. A car will go through; but it won’t be Corey’s. It’ll be us, with the search warrant. We’ll walk right in the house and start to look around.”