CHAPTER XVI TERMS ARE MET

“LOOK at this, Marquette.”

Senator Releston passed a letter to the Secret Service operative. Releston was seated at his desk, opening the morning mail. Vic was close by; Stollart was at the filing cabinet in the corner.

“From Dadren?” queried Vic, in amazement.

“Looks like it,” responded the senator. “The signature appears genuine. Come here, Stollart; perhaps you can help us.”

The stoop-shouldered secretary approached and studied the letter. He nodded; then went to the filing cabinet and produced other letters. He brought them to the desk. These letters were under Dadren’s file; though typewritten, they had the signature. It matched.

“Call Vincent,” said Releston to Stollart. “I want to talk to him.”

The secretary went out and returned with Harry. Releston motioned the young man to a chair. Referring to the letter, Releston began to speak.

“Here is a communication,” he declared, “that was mailed in Washington late yesterday afternoon. It purports to be from Commander Joseph Dadren.

“He wants me to guarantee twenty-five thousand dollars for his release. I am to make the payment as he will tell me. I have merely to refrain from issuing a statement that the commander has been kidnapped.

“Such action — or lack of action — will satisfy his captors. If I agree, Commander Dadren will come here a free man, prior to Thursday noon, bringing with him the complete set of missing tracings that belong with the plans.”

“You’re wrong there, senator,” put in Marquette. “Read that last part again. It says that he will bring his set of duplicate plans.”

“You’re right,” declared the senator, referring to the letter. “But I don’t see that there is any difference, Marquette.”

“There’s plenty of difference,” asserted Vic. “Somebody dictated that letter to Dadren. The fellows who have got him don’t know that the tracings go with the other drawings. They think he simply had duplicates.”

“An excellent point, Marquette,” approved Releston. “It is your turn, Vincent. You have heard Marquette’s criticism. Tell me: as Dadren’s secretary, does this sound like a letter that the commander would have written?”


HARRY took the message and read it carefully. He shook his head.

“Commander Dadren would not have used this wording,” said Harry. “He copied it from some one’s dictation. There is proof of it. The letter was written slowly and carefully. Commander Dadren usually scrawled messages in haste.”

“Ah! You believe that Dadren actually wrote the note?”

“Absolutely! It compares with certain expense sheets that he made out for me to copy. Those were items that he took time to write with care.”

“There’s a point, senator,” added Vic. “If they’d been faking Dadren’s writing, they’d probably have picked one of his scrawly samples. Don’t you think so, Vincent?”

“Probably,” agreed Harry. “I have the expense sheets with me. We can make a comparison.”

Ten minutes later, the expense sheets lay beside the note that Dadren had written. Senator Releston was nodding in conviction that the letter was genuine. The other three men agreed with him.

“That settles it,” asserted the senator, firmly. “We shall meet the terms. We shall expect Dadren’s arrival. All of us. The senate is not in session. I shall spend all my time here.”

“Count on me,” put in Vic Marquette. “I’m not going to move out until Dadren shows up. You’ll be here, too, Vincent?”

“I have to go to the Navy Department,” recalled Harry. “At three o’clock, Wednesday afternoon. I’ll be gone one hour. Merely to give a statement about the men employed at Cedar Cove. The department may take over the commander’s equipment.”

“You’ll be here practically all the time then,” stated Vic Marquette. “We’ll have Stollart with us besides. Well, senator, I see it the way you do. Let’s get Dadren safely here. Of course, there’s liable to be trouble about the money—”

“Not a bit,” inserted Releston. “I shall pay it gladly. I would deliver twice that sum — four times the sum — without a question. Provided that Dadren is delivered. I haven’t seen the commander for two years” — Releston paused reflectively — “but I should be able to recognize him. Most of our negotiations were by correspondence.”

“Has Stollart met him?” questioned Marquette.

“I don’t think so,” replied Releston. “Have you, Stollart?”

The secretary shook his head.

“I’ve only seen Dadren’s photograph,” remarked Vic. “But Vincent served as his secretary. We’ll count on you, Vincent—”

“Commander Dadren can identify himself,” interrupted the senator. “Our plans are made. We shall adopt a policy of the strictest secrecy. Inform no one else. Do nothing that may frustrate this arrangement.”


SHORTLY afterward, Senator Releston left for the senate building. Harry remained in the office. Vic Marquette spoke to him.

“I’m going over to make a routine report,” said the operative. “Stick around, Vincent, while I’m gone.”

Harry nodded. Vic departed, and not long afterward Stollart left the room.

When the secretary had gone, Harry sat down at the desk. Keeping an eye on the door, The Shadow’s agent drew a pen from his pocket and inscribed a report to The Shadow.

Going to the window, Harry folded the message and put it in an envelope. He made a slight motion with his hand. The envelope flashed in the sunlight. Across the street, a man noted the signal.

Harry thrust the envelope in his pocket and walked to the door. Stollart was not about, nor were the servants, Smedley and Williston. Harry did not like to leave the office; he and Cliff always stayed there, except when Senator Releston was on hand. But he felt sure that a brief departure would cause no harm.

He went out through the waiting room and opened the front door of the apartment. Leaving the door ajar, Harry headed for the elevators and loitered by the mail chute.

The man who had seen him from across the street was Cliff Marsland. Cliff would come up on the elevator to the floor above; then descend by the stairway. That would be Harry’s opportunity to pass him the envelope. They had worked the stunt before.


BACK in the apartment, Stollart had returned to the office. The secretary’s face showed tenseness. Stollart was holding letters in his hand; he intended to tell Harry Vincent that he was going out to mail them. But Stollart saw no sign of Harry.

Quickly, the secretary crossed the room. Seating himself by the desk, he called a number. He knew that it was a pay booth in the Union Station. Some one was supposed to be on hand to receive the call.

A ringing sound; then came a voice that Stollart had heard before, although he did not know the speaker. It was Marling. He spoke a key-word that Stollart understood. Lips close to the receiver, Stollart gave the news.

“All set,” he whispered hoarsely. “They fell for it… The time for the deal will be Wednesday afternoon, right after two o’clock. Vincent will be out. For an hour. Navy Department… No, nothing important… Yes, he’d probably recognize Dadren… I’ll be ready…”

Stollart dropped the receiver abruptly and moved over toward the filing cabinet. He had heard the sound of a closing door. A few moments later, Harry Vincent sauntered into the office. Harry had passed the report to Cliff. He had arrived too late, however, to catch Stollart telephoning.

It was not long before Vic Marquette returned. Senator Releston came in later. The vigil had begun. From now on, those in the know would await the promised arrival of Commander Joseph Dadren.

Harry Vincent was satisfied. He had sent word to The Shadow. His report, though brief, had missed no point.

But Harry Vincent was not the only one of the four watchers who felt that he had played an important part. Stollart, the smug secretary, had also passed the word along. Another of Eric Hildrow’s traitors, Stollart had paved the way for the master plotter’s coming stroke.

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