Creeping toward the front of the cottage, Harry reached the door, and raised his body. He leaned against the barrier, hoping that he might hear some sound from within.
The doorknob rattled slightly as Harry’s arm struck against it. Immediately, Harry was cautious and unmoving, resting his body silently against the door.
Then came the unexpected. The door was suddenly yanked inward. With automatic in hand, Harry Vincent stumbled forward, failed to catch himself, and sprawled headfirst upon the floor, his gun dropping from his grasp.
The door slammed shut. A hand snatched the automatic. On hands and knees, Harry Vincent saw his predicament. To one side, by the door, was Downs, the servant. He had opened the door; he had closed it.
Before him, Harry saw an ugly-faced old man, whose leer offered no welcome to the intruder. It was Elbert Cordes, who had snatched the gun. He now held Harry Vincent covered with his own weapon.
Malbray Woodruff had been right. Elbert Cordes and his servant were on watch. Trouble had broken. Through his impetuousness, Malbray Woodruff had himself come to grief — and now Harry Vincent was at the mercy of the evil-looking pair!
CHAPTER XVII
MEN IN THE DARK
HARRY VINCENT’S first action was to accept present consequences in the safest way. Seeing the automatic in the hand of Elbert Cordes, the agent of The Shadow raised his own hands as he clambered to his feet.
Elbert Cordes followed a circling course and joined Downs beside the front door. The two had Harry at their mercy, and the expression on the old man’s face was not comforting. Nevertheless, Harry bided his time.
In his term of service with The Shadow, Harry Vincent had been faced by many situations like this; and he had found that calmness often meant salvation. A parley with his captors might subdue their antagonism; it might offer opportunity for escape; or it might afford invaluable delay.
Whenever trouble brewed — no matter how unexpectedly — The Shadow was likely to arrive upon the scene. Time and again, his mysterious employer had saved Harry Vincent from some situation that was seemingly hopeless.
Tonight, Harry knew, The Shadow was in New York. Moreover, he had relied upon Harry’s discretion. Therefore, the arrival of The Shadow was hardly to be expected — but it was something that Harry never failed to count upon in an emergency.
Harry’s calmness worked. It brought a gesture toward parley. Elbert Cordes, seeing that his captive was helpless, began to question Harry in a thin, sharp voice.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded. “Who are you, anyway? What is this intrusion?”
“My name is Harry Vincent,” responded Harry, in a quiet tone. “I am staying with Malbray Woodruff, the artist. It was not my intention to intrude here. I was merely searching for Woodruff.”
“With a gun?” asked Cordes sarcastically.
“With a gun,” responded Harry calmly. “Owing to the peculiar circumstances surrounding Woodruff’s disappearance, I thought it wise to be armed.”
“Humph,” grunted Cordes. “What was Woodruff doing, prowling around here at night?”
“He was trying to find out who took his boat,” declared Harry boldly. “He said that some one was using it, tonight. He stated that he was coming over here to question you. So that is why I followed — after Woodruff did not return.”
The old man studied Harry Vincent narrowly.
“So Woodruff wanted to know why I was using his boat,” he said coldly. “May I ask you a question? Why was Woodruff using the boat himself?”
“He is a painter of seascapes,” declared Harry. “He finds suitable scenes in different parts of the bay. That is why he uses the boat.”
“So he would like people to believe,” sneered Cordes.
“But, look here, Cordes,” announced Harry suddenly. “I don’t know what your game is, or why you suspect me of having one. I came up here for a rest — and to do some writing. I found Malbray Woodruff to be a first-rate fellow, and I’m sure that he is doing nothing shady. He wants to be left alone — like you do.
“From what you just said, you were using his boat. You admitted it. I think that Woodruff had a fair right to talk with you about the matter. The boat belongs to him. If you have held any animosity toward Woodruff, it’s time to forget it. He is impetuous, that’s all.”
HARRY’S remarks were intended to subdue any suspicions that Cordes might be entertaining. Moreover, Harry hoped that Woodruff had not suffered serious harm. If the artist had merely been captured by Downs, this was a negotiation that might lead to his release.
Cordes was staring quizzically at Harry. The old man’s face reflected a shrewd gleam that Harry could not understand. Cordes mumbled a few words to Downs, and the servant nodded. It was then that Cordes, as though receiving agreement from his servant, addressed a new question to Harry.
“You say your name is Vincent?” he asked.
Harry nodded.
“And that your purpose at East Point is entirely innocent?”
Again, Harry nodded.
“Are you a detective?”
Harry shook his head.
There was a frankness about Harry’s attitude that seemed to have a marked effect upon Elbert Cordes. The sour expression became less noticeable on the old man’s lips.
“Vincent,” said Cordes, “I’m not too inclined to accept the story that you have given me. Perhaps you know more than you pretend. But I am certain of one thing — that you are a newcomer here at East Point. I have been suspicious of you, but—”
Until this moment, Downs had said nothing. The servant now took it upon himself to interrupt his master’s discourse. Cordes nodded in commending fashion, as Downs said:
“Do not tell him too much.”
“You are right, Downs,” said the old man. Then, to Harry: “Your friend Woodruff is one whom I have suspected. Therefore, you share the suspicion. Do you understand that?”
A sudden hunch struck Harry Vincent. Often, in his diversified career, had he encountered difficult situations that were clouded purely through misunderstanding. Perhaps this was such a case.
At any rate, now that a show-down was in progress, Harry felt that the truth could strengthen his position rather than weaken it. After all, Malbray Woodruff knew very little about Elbert Cordes. Why not tell the old man so, and convince him by the tale?
“Cordes,” said Harry, “let me tell you about Woodruff. I know the man only as a recent acquaintance. He impresses me as being unobtrusive. He has been very frank with me, and he told me that he did not like things that were going on at East Point. He stated that he had seen lights out in the bay; that he had heard noises; and, finally, that he had discovered some one was using his boat.”
“Go on,” ordered Cordes.
“Near Little Knob,” resumed Harry, “Woodruff accidentally found a handkerchief floating in the water. He has the handkerchief now. It had the initials E. C. embroidered upon it. Woodruff thought that the handkerchief belonged to you. I disagreed. I took it to be a lady’s handkerchief. I regarded the initials merely as a coincidence.
“However, Woodruff was suspicious of you. He was sure that you were using his boat. That is why he wanted to take the matter up with you. But he had something else on his mind. He said that to-day, he discovered something strange on Little Knob.”
A look of intense interest came over the old man’s face. It showed eagerness rather than antagonism. Harry regarded it as a good sign, and continued:
“I was very anxious to learn what Woodruff had found,” said Harry, “but, unfortunately, he did not tell me. He suspected that some one was listening outside his cottage. He ran out into the dark, and disappeared. The last I saw of him was when he reached your door.”