The Golden Grotto

CHAPTER VIII THE REPLY

AT six o’clock the following afternoon, Harry Vincent was seated alone in Malbray Woodruff’s cottage. No new events had occurred on the Point, unless Professor Sheldon’s return from New York, and a short rowboat excursion by Woodruff, could be regarded as such.

In all work for The Shadow, however, Harry had come to regard minor events as possibilities of importance; hence these matters were to be mentioned in his next report. All that Harry now awaited was a means of communication that would not excite suspicion.

Woodruff was still outside, and Harry was engaged with the radio set. He was tuning in on a New York station which he had followed on each preceding night. He had it now, and he was listening for the next announcement just as Woodruff entered.

Harry waved a greeting to the artist; then sat back and heard the voice of the speaker at the broadcasting studio. It was a news announcement:

“It is interesting,” said the voice, “to note that in the government laboratory at Medicine Hat, the Canadian army has developed a new type of shell, which has done wonders in increasing the efficiency of long-range guns.

“One expert has stated that this will revolutionize ordnance equipment, and others are inclined to agree with him. A light cannon that can send missiles twice the present range will answer many military problems. That is one way to reduce armament — by making it more efficient.”

Woodruff offered an interruption as Harry was listening to the next announcement. The artist did not seem to relish the program.

“What do we care about news of the world?” questioned Woodruff. “What does Medicine Hat mean to East Point? Turn on some music — it may be bad, but it can’t be worse than that stuff.”

Harry Vincent laughed as he shifted the dial. At the end of the first announcement, the speaker had ceased to emphasize certain words. Harry had heard all that was necessary.

“Note in hat Sheldon has with him. Send answer that way.”

This was the message which Harry had heard, buried in the longer announcement. To Malbray Woodruff, the words had no significance. In communicating with his agents in the field, The Shadow had long used this system.

How the arrangements were accomplished was a mystery to Harry Vincent. It was one of those unexplainable ways in which The Shadow worked.

With Harry, it was a custom to tune in on certain stations at appointed hours, to listen for emphasized words that would bring him instructions from the ether. On certain occasions, Harry had been warned of danger; on others, The Shadow had guided him in the midst of some difficult task. This time, The Shadow had answered an important question which Harry had asked.

“I think I’ll drop in on the professor,” Harry said to Woodruff. “He has been home all day, I believe. Maybe we can arrange a get-together with him tonight.”

“Good idea,” responded the artist. “I’ll start to fix up a meal.”

IT was still daylight, and Harry, as he passed the cottage where Elbert Cordes lived, felt sure that some one was watching him from the seclusion of the building. He did not, however, glance toward the cottage. Instead, he went directly to the professor’s home. Lester answered the door in response to Harry’s knock.

Professor Kirby Sheldon saw his visitor at the door, and waved in welcome. Harry entered and sat down. Within a few minutes, he and Sheldon were making plans for an evening visit.

There was a hatrack in the corner, and upon it, Harry saw the professor’s gray hat. There was no opportunity to reach the hat at present. Harry decided to wait until evening.

It was eight o’clock when Harry and Woodruff arrived at the professor’s cottage, and the subject turned to the old sociologist’s favorite theme — the formation of a Utopia. As usual, Harry expressed a keen interest in the subject, while Woodruff displayed a superior indifference.

The three were alone in the room when the professor stated that he would like to have Harry see the notes that he had prepared for tomorrow night’s lecture. Accordingly Sheldon went into the study. Woodruff was half asleep. Harry, seated near the hatrack, saw his opportunity.

Rising to reach for an ash tray, he accidentally knocked the professor’s hat from the rack. In picking up the hat, Harry ran his fingers around the inner band. He encountered a folded slip of paper, and pocketed it while his back was toward Woodruff. The hat was again on the rack when Professor Sheldon returned.

The rest of the evening was spent in discussion between Harry and the professor. Kirby Sheldon seemed pleased to have some one to talk to prior to the next night’s lecture. When Harry awoke Woodruff to go back to the other cottage, the professor was in a most amiable mood.

“You are an intelligent man, Vincent,” he declared at the door. “You agree with me on utilitarian ideas. We must talk together often. Responsiveness such as yours stimulates my power to discuss a theme to which I have devoted a lifelong study. It is good for me to talk with you.”

Harry Vincent was alert as he and Malbray Woodruff walked through the brisk, bleak wind that was sweeping the Point. The roar of the surf was incessant, but above its steady murmur, Harry could detect a sound that was closer at hand. He sensed that some one was outside the professor’s domicile; and as he and Woodruff walked silently past the darkened cottage where Elbert Cordes lived, Harry was sure that footsteps were following.

This impression continued until after Harry and Woodruff had reached their own house. The sleepy artist lost no time in getting to bed. Harry, in the seclusion of his own room, opened the piece of paper that he had taken from Sheldon’s hat.

It bore a few inked words in the code with which Harry was familiar. These carried the statement that this was a trial message by which regular communication could be established, and that Harry should use it regularly.

Accordingly, Harry penned a brief note of his own, stating the few events that had occurred at East Point, and mentioning the fact that a prowler had evidently been abroad tonight.

With the return note folded and pocketed, Harry extinguished his lamp and peered from the darkened window. He could see nothing through the pitch-black night. Evidently, the man who had followed him and Woodruff was tagging along merely in hope of hearing stray bits of conversation.

HARRY VINCENT spent considerable time in speculation that night. His first thoughts were ones of admiration for the ingenuity of The Shadow. Inasmuch as Professor Kirby Sheldon made regular trips to and from New York, it was a simple matter to utilize him as a secret messenger. The note which Harry had read was one with the usual fading ink.

The possibility that Professor Sheldon would suspect a message in his hatband was indeed remote. Even should the old sociologist open such a message, he would learn nothing; yet the recipient, should the professor replace it, would know that the message had been touched, for it would be blank.

However, Harry was sure that Professor Sheldon would never dream of looking inside his hat for a concealed bit of paper. The great fact that impressed Harry was that The Shadow must be in contact with Sheldon in New York. Therefore, Harry came to the correct assumption that The Shadow — in some guise — was attending the lectures which Sheldon was delivering.

This brought a new realization of duty to Harry. It was obvious that his investigations here, comparatively barren though they had been, were of intense interest to The Shadow. Harry knew well that the investigations concerned the gold which had been taken from the Patagonia; and in reviewing the newspaper accounts of that amazing robbery, he could see The Shadow’s logic.

The modern pirates who had stolen the gold must logically have disposed of it at some convenient spot. East Point had been searched early in the game; and, according to Woodruff, coast guards had invaded all the houses on the Point. Finding nothing, they had watched the district for a time.

Yet it was quite conceivable that the stolen hoard might be in this vicinity. If so, its removal would come later. Therefore, it was highly important that a watchful observer be stationed in the locality.

The Shadow had placed direct suspicion upon a spot where all others could now see no likelihood. Wisely, The Shadow was playing a waiting game — and Harry Vincent was serving as his eyes and ears.

Thus realizing the importance of his mission here, Harry indulged in careful analysis. Eliminating no one, there were three persons who might know something about the pirate ship. These three were Woodruff, Sheldon, and Cordes.

WOODRUFF, living alone and welcoming a guest, was hardly a likely plotter, in Harry’s estimation. Yet Harry did not overlook the fact that Woodruff had a boat in which he made short trips about the bay. Those trips, Harry knew, would bear watching.

Professor Sheldon, with two servants, had a good location on the Point; but his stability and reputation reduced suspicion. Between Woodruff and Sheldon, Harry took the artist as the one more likely to know something of what was going on hereabouts; but both were virtually negligible.

The one man who must be watched most closely was Elbert Cordes. Already, Harry felt that he had definite evidence to show that Cordes had some game at stake. A secluded man with a prowling servant might well be concerned in shady business.

It was this belief that caused Harry Vincent to abandon present thoughts of sleep. He stole downstairs, out through the door, and circled across the dunes toward the next cottage. The sweeping wind whirled sand in all directions. There was no chance of leaving footprints tonight.

Close by the cottage, Harry crept along the wall. He stopped by a window, and raised his head. The tiniest crack in a window shade showed him that the room within was illuminated.

Listening, Harry heard the low buzz of deep voices, but he could not distinguish a single word that was uttered. As the conversation ended, Harry crept away. He must not run any risk of being seen or detected on this expedition. He must wait until he received orders from The Shadow.

Back in his own room, Harry destroyed his note and wrote a new one, mentioning his cautious visit to the abode of Elbert Cordes. When morning came, Harry strolled over to Professor Sheldon’s home, and was admitted by Lester.

The servant went to the professor’s study. The gray hat was lying on a table, with a gold-headed cane beside it. Unseen, Harry slipped his compact message within the hatband.

“You are leaving for New York, sir?” questioned Harry, when Professor Sheldon appeared.

The professor stated that he was departing within a few minutes.

“I would appreciate it if you would drop me at the depot,” said Harry. “I walk down there sometimes—”

“Come right along!” exclaimed the professor. “Glad to accommodate you, Vincent. Any time, any time!”

Twenty minutes later, Harry Vincent alighted from Professor Sheldon’s limousine, and wished the sociologist a pleasant ride to New York. Shoyer drove away, and Harry remained upon the station platform.

A few minutes later, he smiled when he saw an old car jouncing along the road from the Point. Downs was arriving, ostensibly on his regular trip to the little settlement. Harry, however, knew that Elbert Cordes must have sent him to make a check-up on the stranger who was visiting Malbray Woodruff.

Harry did not visit the post office that day. He bought tobacco, groceries, and canned goods. He packed his bundles in the rickety cab, and ordered the driver to take him back to Malbray Woodruff’s cottage.

Harry was pleased with this excursion. He sat on the porch of the artist’s cottage, watching Woodruff at work on the beach, painting a picturesque array of rocks. To-day, Harry, had called the turn; he had made Downs follow him, and had given the man nothing to suspect.

Moreover, Harry, had maintained contact with Professor Sheldon, and had given the old sociologist sufficient reason for the morning visit. Thereby, Harry had accomplished still more. He had followed the order of The Shadow.

Professor Kirby Sheldon was still The Shadow’s messenger. At this very moment, the dignified old gentleman was riding to New York, bearing a note from Harry Vincent to his chief. The reply had been sent, carrying new information to The Shadow.