Murder Marsh

CHAPTER XII. ABOVE AND BELOW

“BURKE speaking.”

The statement came through Harry Vincent’s earphones. Listening from his post in the beacon shack, Harry had formed new contact with Clyde in the Hotel Rensdale. Acknowledging the call, Harry awaited instructions. They came.

“Cover the squatter’s cabin,” ordered Clyde. “Prevent the bearded man from leaving. Hold him for further orders.”

“Instructions received.”

Using his flashlight along the ground, Harry Vincent proceeded from the shack. He found his way to a forgotten path that he had discovered. Through thick blackness, he began his descent toward the cottage on the hill.

The evening was less than half gone. There was ample time to reach the cottage before the bearded Dalwar was ready to leave. All the way along, Harry watched for signs of flashed signals from the distant mansion in the marsh. He saw none. Hence he was sure that he would find the bearded man in his cabin.

Harry had spied the fellow once or twice, late in the afternoon. He had seen signals from the mansion on the night of Cray’s murder. Harry knew The Shadow’s purpose for this particular evening. Somehow, The Shadow had foreseen that signals would come from the mansion. He wanted to prevent the bearded man from making another of his trouble-bringing forays.

It was Harry’s job to stop the Dalwar. In leaving this duty to his agent, The Shadow was relying upon a man of proven power. Harry was a good hand with a gun. He was thoroughly capable for a task of this sort. Particularly so, because all the odds were in his favor. The bearded man would not be expecting an opponent from the mountain top.

WHEN he neared the cabin, Harry spied a flickering light from a side window. He crept in that direction; close by, he peered into the interior of the cabin. The light was from a fire place beside the door. A slight chill had fallen on the hillside; the bearded man was warming his hands before the fire.

Harry studied the fellow — his heavy shoulders with their forward stoop— his profile, black because of the thick beard. There was something rugged yet almost gawkish in the Dalwar’s bearing. Harry gained the sudden impression that the black-beard might be a false one, used for a disguise.

There was a door at the back of the main room. It opened into what appeared to be a small apartment.

Moving from the window, Harry circled the rear of the cabin; he saw a window in the little room; it was five feet above the ground, because of the slope. The rear of the house was toward the marsh below.

The proper place to watch was from the side window. Harry returned to that post. He stayed close, watching the man within. He saw the bearded Dalwar pace impatiently into the little room; then back to the outer. A short while later, the fellow repeated the action.

He was watching for flashes from the house in the marsh. Harry would not be able to see them, due to the angled side of the cabin; but that caused him no concern. By watching the bearded man, Harry was accomplishing his mission. Once the Dalwar tried to leave the cabin, Harry would present opposition.

The outer door — facing up the hill — was bolted and locked. A huge key was visible. Hence Harry formed a simple plan of strategy. He knew that he could reach a spot outside the door before the Dalwar could unlock the barrier. Coming from the darkness, it would be a simple matter to trap the fellow before he stepped from the cabin.

The bearded man prowled back into the little room. He stayed there a few minutes. When he returned, he did so quickly. He picked up his flat hat and placed it on his head. Harry knew that he would be starting for the door. The man had probably received the signal. Harry hurried to the front of the cabin.

He crouched there, his revolver in one hand, the flashlight in the other.

The bolt clattered in the lock of the front door. Harry was tense, waiting for the key to grate. The expected sound did not come. One long minute passed— then another. For some reason, the bearded man had decided to delay his exit.

Harry crept back to the side window. He looked into the main room. He saw that it was deserted. Had the Dalwar gone back into the little room to wait for a repetition of the signal from the mansion?

Stealthily, Harry crept to the rear of the house. He looked up toward the window. A deep breath came from Harry’s lips.

The window was open. That fact told its own story. The bearded man, possibly suspicious, had chosen the window as his exit after unbolting the door. Wildly, Harry scrambled to the side of the house. Peering in, he saw that the key had been removed from the front door.

The Dalwar had left the cabin locked; but he had taken the key. Thus he could enter by the door when he returned. In the meantime, he had slipped the vigilance of The Shadow’s agent. He was already off on his journey to the mansion.

Harry’s one thought was to overtake the fellow. The bearded man had a few minutes’ start. He must be caught before he reached the marsh. After that, Harry would be unable to trace him farther. Madly, The Shadow’s agent started down the hillside, intent upon capturing the man whom he had been set to take prisoner.

HARRY was right in his assumption that a signal had been given. All had retired within the old house.

Brent, Shelby and Dorothy were in their rooms on the second floor when Twindell had sneaked down stairs to open the big door. From the alcove, the servant had blinked his flashlight. He had gone back into the house, leaving the door unbolted.

Watching eyes had seen that signal. Shrouded by darkness, The Shadow had come from beside the house. Then he had traced a course along the solid ground, through brambles and shrubs, until he had neared the causeway. There he had paused to watch the working night shift. Standing between the abandoned well and the battered kennels, The Shadow had noted idle men who seemed to be on watch.

Then he had taken to the marsh. With strange precision, the invisible investigator had picked a swift path toward the hillside. His whispered laugh sounded as he strode through the bog. The Shadow was on his way to join Harry Vincent. He had every reason to rely upon Harry’s ability. The Shadow was satisfied that the bearded man was already a prisoner in his cabin on the hill.

Because of his detour toward the causeway, The Shadow was forced to pick a bog path that brought him to the left of the line between mansion and hillside cabin. Cutting upward at an angle, The Shadow moved with surprising swiftness toward the cabin. His upward course showed a speed that the average man could not have made along a downward path.

Nearing his goal, The Shadow spied the flicker of the firelight from the side window of the cabin.

Approaching rapidly, he peered through the window. He saw that the cabin was deserted. He noted that the bolt was drawn. Rounding the back, The Shadow saw the opened window. His hands shot upward; they gained the sill. The cloaked form swung up from the dark.

Stepping through the little room, The Shadow entered the main portion of the cabin. He stepped to the door and tried it. He found it locked. Spectrally, The Shadow stood in the glare of the firelight. His form was ghostly in the wavering glow. The laugh that came from his hidden lips was a strange, hollow tone that lacked all mirth.

The Shadow could tell exactly what had happened. His keen mind pictured Harry watching the front of the cabin where windows were absent. The Shadow visualized the bearded man, drawing the bolt, removing the key, then dropping out by the rear window.

Chance had balked The Shadow. While he had been ascending the hill, confident that his agent had trapped the Dalwar, the bearded man had been making the descent. The Shadow had reached the deserted cabin— in all probability, the Dalwar was already at the mansion in the marsh!

HARRY VINCENT’S slip had not only permitted the circumstances which The Shadow had planned to prevent. The agent’s failure had done double damage. Had The Shadow remained at the mansion, he could have shown his powerful hand in the trouble that was brewing there; but as fate had willed it, The Shadow was completely out of the picture down below!

The black-garbed figure came to life. Swiftly, The Shadow moved into the little room. With quick action, he cleared the sill and dropped to the ground below. He moved into the darkness of the hillside.

Damage had been done. A conflict was impending below. The Shadow was eliminated from the struggle.

Yet the weird, grim laugh that stole from the darkness was proof that the master’s cause was not yet hopeless.

Chance had brought The Shadow to the empty cabin. Though chance had tricked him, it might yet turn to his favor. Whatever occurred within the mansion on the marsh, The Shadow would be ready for the aftermath.

Strokes were in the making. They might fail completely; or they might leave the issue doubtful. The stage would be set for new action. The counterstroke would be The Shadow’s.