The Grove of Doom

CHAPTER XVI. THE ATTACK

ANOTHER morning had dawned at Lower Beechview, and Mildred Chittenden had enjoyed a restful night. High noon had arrived when she appeared upon the lawn and began to stroll about the grounds.

Jessup and his two men were at work on the side of the house away from the grove. Harvey, Mildred knew, was in the house, keeping to himself. Craig Ware was not in sight.

Jessup saw the girl approaching, and tipped his hat. Mildred noted that the two men were busy rolling a large barrel up an incline from the cellar. She spoke to Jessup.

“Where is Mr. Ware?” she questioned.

“He went away this morning,” replied Jessup. “Up to Connecticut. He won’t be back until sometime tomorrow.”

“That’s right,” said Mildred thoughtfully. “I remember that he was going away. I’m sorry that he will be away. The place looks beautiful this morning, Jessup. Perhaps that is because I enjoyed a good rest for a change.”

“Glad to hear that, ma’am,” responded Jessup. “I was up most of the night, watching the grounds. One of my men will be on duty tomorrow. I hope that will make you and Mr. Chittenden feel less worried.”

“I’m not worrying any more,” said Mildred, with a laugh. “It just seemed rather spooky out here, I suppose, after the city.”

Jessup turned to order the men who were moving the barrel. Mildred saw now that there were three or four of the large containers, and that they offered considerable trouble in handling. One was going on a wheelbarrow now.

“Those barrels are very heavy,” commented Mildred. “What is in them, Jessup?”

“Cement,” replied the head worker solemnly. “You see, ma’am, I tried an experiment that didn’t work out. We had cement left over from the garage drive, and I thought I could use it to line the cellar wall. It wasn’t going right, down in the cellar, and I was stuck with a whole load of mixed cement. Had to get rid of it — no good. So I poured it into those old barrels. Now it’s hardened.”

“Is the cement of any use now?”

“No, ma’am,” said Jessup ruefully. “It’s just a loss — for which I’m sorry. Had to figure a way to get rid of it, so we’re loading the barrels on our little boat off the float. Drop them overboard in the Sound is what we intend to do.”

“How are the rabbits getting on, Jessup?” queried Mildred, anxious to turn to a more interesting subject. “Did the new ones come in?”

“Yes, ma’am,” was the reply. “Shipped the old ones out the other day. The new ones aren’t just what I want; guess I’ll have to get rid of them the same way. You can look at them if you wish, while they’re here.”

Mildred strolled up to see the rabbits and immediately forgot all about Jessup and his workmen. She resumed to the front lawn, and spent the afternoon reading a book. Despite the beauty of the day, Mildred felt lonely. Harvey’s condition was troubling her. He had not recovered from the mood that his father and brother had occasioned.

IT was nearly evening when Harvey appeared from the house and querulously called to Jessup. Mildred heard him give instructions to the man.

“I want you to be up tonight, Jessup,” ordered Harvey. “You and both your men. Take tomorrow off if you want. I don’t like it here at night, especially with Ware gone. Can’t sleep unless I know the place is right. So be on the job, all three of you.”

“All right, Mr. Chittenden,” assented Jessup.

Evening came, and Harvey seemed wrapped in an unapproachable lethargy. His wife attempted to open conversation with him, as they sat in the living room, but Harvey was taciturn and morose. It was obvious that his mind was ill at ease. Finally, in response to Mildred’s quiet talk, Harvey became suddenly angry.

“Don’t talk to me!” he exclaimed. “After the other night, when you asked all those maddening questions — how can you talk to me? I tell you I don’t know what it’s all about — all these worries. My family — I detest them. Why should you trouble me, too?”

He stamped upstairs, and Mildred sat alone and unhappy. She and Harvey had seldom quarreled. She made allowance for the nervous strain that he had suffered, for with Harvey a temper lasted long. At the same time, Mildred could not help but wonder about those nights she had spent on the lawn.

Lei Chang and Koon Woon — the two names kept throbbing through her brain. What had happened to Walter Pearson — to Wilbur Chittenden? Had any ill befallen Galbraith or Zachary after they had visited Lower Beechview and returned through the grove?

Mildred pondered long. She walked out upon the porch. She stared off past the grove toward the lights of Upper Beechview. She watched them for a long time; then saw them go out, one by one.

The moonlight was not brilliant tonight, yet it threw a plain glow, and Mildred could see the bench by the water front. It seemed very black and shadowy. Somehow, Mildred connected it with the strange phantom that she had seen on the lawn — the gliding shape that had emerged from the grove.

The grove! Had Mildred known it, that weird figure was moving through the grove at this very moment.

There, beneath the beeches, a black-shrouded figure was walking with noiseless tread. Tonight was important to The Shadow!

Mildred went in the house and up to her room. She could not go to sleep. Midnight had long since passed. Jessup and his men were on watch tonight; that, at least, was comforting.

Mildred was suddenly aware of a tense, whispered voice beneath her window. Leaping from bed, she listened. It was one of Jessup’s men talking with his chief.

“I just spotted ‘em!” the man was declaring breathlessly. “Sneakin’ up from the shore, over by them trees. Don’t know who they are, but we’d better lay for ‘em.”

“Go around in back,” growled Jessup. “Hurry! I’ll get Bud and aim for the front. If they look phony, give it to them.”

Trouble on the other side of the house! Men on the lawn! Frightened, Mildred rushed to Harvey’s room.

She rapped softly on the door. Harvey’s growl came in response.

“Harvey! Harvey!” exclaimed Mildred. “There’s going to be trouble outside. Hush! Don’t let anyone hear you! Men are coming in, and Jessup is trying to stop them!”

The door opened, and Harvey appeared, dressed except for coat and vest. In the gloom of the hallway, Mildred could see the flash of a revolver.

“Stay up here!” ordered Harvey. “I’m going down to see what’s the matter. More trouble from the hill, maybe.”

MILDRED went to a front window and crouched there. She could see no one, although all seemed vague over by the beeches. Then she fancied she could see men near the shore. Suddenly, Harvey appeared. He had rushed down the steps from the porch.

Instantly, the quietude of Lower Beechview was broken by a strident shout. Someone — down near the shore — had raised the cry.

“That’s him!” came the call. “Get him! Get him! He’s the guy we want!”

Revolver shots crackled from the shore. Before Harvey, startled, could respond, an answering fire came from the side of the house. Then, up by the gate that led to the golf course, new shots burst forth.

Harvey, out of range of the first wild attack, scrambled to the shelter of the porch. Men were dashing over the lawn now, their shots forming a barrage that covered the door to the house. The rounds were spreading; a terrific fusillade seemed opening from all directions.

Terror gripped Mildred Chittenden. She could see half a dozen men crossing the lawn, and knew that others were elsewhere. Some enemy — she thought of Harvey’s fears — had ordered a mass attack. To resist it were but four: Jessup, his two men, and Harvey. How could they resist these superior numbers?

The cause was hopeless. Worst of all, Harvey had gone directly into the trap. Jessup and his men were under cover; they had themselves to look out for. Fiendish gangsters were tearing over the lawn. Harvey could not escape them. He was doomed!

A terrified sob came from the girl’s lips. Pathetically, she stared across the lawn. Then to her distorted vision came a sight that both horrified and thrilled her, as she recognized a new entrant into this maddened fray.

Coming from the edge of the grove was the strange phantom in black. Like an avenging specter, he was gliding toward the focal point of the attack.

Was he with the enemy? A terrible fear gripped Mildred. Then her dread changed to inspired hope as she cried in exultation. She could see a black-garbed hand extended in the moonlight. A flash burst from a huge automatic. A gangster, who had suddenly observed the menace, dropped upon the lawn before he could fire a single shot.

The Shadow had entered the conflict. Alone, he had come from darkness to beat back the attacking hordes; wild cries came from everywhere as Mildred Chittenden stared transfixed at the sight of the man in black.

Then came a sound that chilled her, yet which added to her hope. Amid the rattle of the guns, the weird avenger was laughing — his mirth pealing forth in a fearful cry of mockery.

That was the laugh of The Shadow!