The Plot Master

CHAPTER VIII THE CONFERENCE

IT did not take long for the warning of a marauder to spread about the headquarters at Cedar Cove. The alarm was passed to guards outside the buildings. Wilkins ordered a prompt search of the entire premises.

All the while, the men remained in pairs. Wilkins had a teammate, like the rest, a fellow named Holgate. The two remained on guard in the laboratory after the others had set out to look for the intruder. Harry remained with Wilkins and Holgate.

While these three were looking about the laboratory, Commander Joseph Dadren entered. He had been summoned from the boat house.

The arrival of the skipper brought a prompt report from Wilkins, who accounted for every one in the place. Holgate seconded all of the statements. Both men mentioned that Harry had been working on the typewriter.

Pair by pair, searchers and guards returned. All made their reports. No trace had been found of any intruder. Dadren sent the men back to their posts. Leaving Harry in the laboratory, he went into the inner office. He returned, wearing a satisfied smile. Harry knew that he had found the plans still safe.

“Everything is all right, sir?” questioned Harry.

“Yes,” returned Dadren, dryly, “except for the fact that some one actually broke into the laboratory. That is serious enough. Don’t you think so, Vincent?”

HARRY studied the commander. Dadren was a tall, wiry man, whose weather-scarred face marked him as a sea dog. Blunt featured, square-jawed, he was a type of person who dealt in facts. His inventive genius lay chiefly in his ceaseless experimenting and his perseverance. The commander was a man who seldom deviated from a fixed purpose.

Harry knew that. He realized, also, that he must use tactful methods in suggesting that new danger might be encountered. Dadren was a fearless man. The simple suggestion that Dadren should postpone his trip would not go far. Harry used the commander’s question as a wedge of another sort.

“I think it is serious,” agreed Harry. “Look about, sir, and see for yourself. That fellow must have been mighty anxious to get in here, the way he chewed up those wires.”

“He blundered, though,” remarked Dadren, looking about the room. “Knocking over a lot of glass looks like the work of some ordinary miscreant.”

“I don’t agree, sir,” put in Harry. “I think the man was working in the dark. He may have seen the light in my room, where I was at the typewriter. He was probably afraid to use a flashlight, while somebody was about.”

“But why should he have searched the laboratory? If he came here after my plans, he should have known that they were in the office.”

“I don’t think so, sir. This is your private lab. He found papers here. He would have been a fool not to inspect them first. He probably used a flashlight for that, keeping it well guarded.”

“But what about the filing cabinet?”

“He made a natural mistake there. Opening the drawer without the light, he may have set some papers on top in a perfectly off-hand manner. That could have started the crash.”

The commander nodded. He was half convinced. Harry put in another thrust.

“The fellow’s getaway,” he said, “is proof that he was no apprentice. He made his way out of the court, even while the alarm was on.”

“That is true,” nodded Dadren. “He came in, too, while the place was guarded. Over the roof was the only way.”

“Unless he started from the inside,” suggested Harry.

The commander stared steadily at his secretary. Harry met the gaze unflinchingly. He saw a troubled look cloud Dadren’s face.

“I take it, Vincent,” he said, dryly, “that we have a spy in our midst.”

“Maybe two, sir.”

“Two?”

“Yes. The men are paired.”

“I see” — Dadren was nodding slowly — “yes, Vincent, your point is well chosen. At the same time, I doubt it. I took great care in teaming up my men. I doubt that any one man could induce another to act as his accomplice.”

THERE was a pause. Harry saw Dadren look to the door of the inner office. The commander had locked it after coming out. Harry saw a new chance to talk.

“I mentioned a possibility, sir,” he said. “I do not think it would be wise to ignore it. You can never trust too fully in the men whom you choose. In fact, that was why you obtained me through Professor Whitburn.”

“Did Whitburn tell you that?”

“Yes. He said that you wanted a first-class recommendation before taking any one into your employ.”

“I wanted you for a secretary, Vincent. That was a more important post than any other. I had men whom I could trust; but they were not qualified for the job.”

“I know that, sir. Don’t think that I am trying to belittle any of the men who were here when I came. I am merely speaking of my own experience.”

“With Whitburn?”

“Yes. I worked for him once, when he was developing his aerial torpedoes. He thought that all of his men could be trusted. He was wrong.”

“Suppose I change the men about,” suggested Dadren, in a tone that indicated a willingness to receive advice. “If two of them have conspired, they would be separated.”

“That might end trouble here,” agreed Harry. “In fact, it would certainly put a quietus on their game.”

“I shall do it,” declared Dadren. “To-night, Vincent, I shall prepare the new list and give it to you in the morning. If spies are present, their efforts will be nullified.”

“Except for one point,” put in Harry. “The most important point, commander.”

“What is that?”

“They will have no further purpose here.”

“Why not?”

“Because the plans will be gone. You are taking them to Washington.”

“That is a point, Vincent. Well, that makes it all the better. They made their attempt to-night. They failed. There is no cause for further worry.”

“There is every cause for worry, Commander.”

Dadren looked at Harry in surprise. The commander thought that his final statement had settled the matter. Harry had reopened the question. What was more, he spoke with assurance; for he felt certain that the trend was turning the way he wanted it.

“To-night was the beginning, sir,” stated Harry, in a serious tone. “The beginning — not the end. An attempt was made to steal the plans for your new submarine. That attempt will be repeated.”

“Not here, if I have taken the plans away.”

“That is exactly what I fear. An attack made elsewhere might succeed. You are heading into danger, sir. Grave danger, as to-night’s episode proves.”

“I do not fear danger, Vincent. It cannot be avoided.”

“It can. Most effectively.”

“How?”

“By keeping the plans here.”

THE commander stared at his secretary. Harry’s suggestion seemed preposterous to Dadren. Shaking his head, the naval officer spoke emphatically.

“I am taking those plans to Washington, Vincent,” he declared. “They are ready to be delivered to Senator Releston. After he has seen them and approved, they will go directly to the Navy Department.”

“I advise a postponement, sir,” returned Harry, boldly. “Put the men on new shifts. Keep the plans here. Bait those spies. Make them reveal themselves—”

“Enough,” interrupted Dadren. “You are here to take orders, Vincent — not to give them. Have you completed those letters I gave you this afternoon?”

“Not quite, sir.”

“Finish them. I shall be in to sign them.”

Dadren’s tone was terse. Harry acknowledged the order; then left the laboratory and went back to his office. He was determined that when Dadren came to sign the letters, he would bring up the subject once again. At any cost, the commander must be prevented from taking the plans to Washington.

Harry looked glum when he reached the big hall. Wilkins was at the fireplace; the fellow arose and followed Harry into the little room. He watched Harry sit down at the typewriter to finish the half-completed letter.

Wilkins suspected nothing. He merely wanted to talk about Commander Dadren. Wilkins was afraid that the skipper would be wrathful because the unseen intruder had escaped. Harry assured him that Dadren was calm. Wilkins went out and Harry resumed his typing.

TEN minutes later, Commander Dadren appeared carrying a letter file. He closed the door of Harry’s room and stood by while his secretary completed the typing of the last letter. He wrote his signature on the different letters that Harry had typed. Then he opened the folder that he had brought with him. From it, he removed a large, flat envelope. He placed the envelope on the table beside the typewriter.

“Vincent,” remarked the commander, quietly. “I have been thinking over what you had to say. I am beginning to agree with you. There is danger ahead. I do not fear it; but that is no reason why I should jeopardize my invention.

“This envelope contains plans for the new submarine. It is to be delivered, unopened, to Senator Releston, in Washington. But I do not intend to take it on my flight to-morrow morning. I shall carry a portfolio that will apparently contain the plans. This envelope, however, will be in your briefcase.

“Tomorrow morning” — the commander’s voice was scarcely more than a whisper — “I shall order you to come to Washington by train. Purely for incidental work, so far as anyone else will know. But I am counting upon you to carry the envelope to Senator Releston. Deliver it to him the morning after your arrival, unless you hear from me in the meantime.”

“Very well, sir,” agreed Harry.

“I have great confidence in you, Vincent,” added Dadren. “Particularly because you were recommended by Professor Whitburn. I liked the way you spoke to-night. You went beyond your province; but you gave me something to think about.

“You are right when you believe that I may be the target of the enemies who failed in to-night’s plot. They will never suspect that I turned this important envelope over to you. Lock it up in your table. Keep it there until you leave.”

With this admonition, the commander turned and opened the door. As he stepped into the hall, he swung about and spoke to Harry in a matter of fact tone.

“Don’t forget to include my forwarding address,” he said. “Put it in every letter, Vincent. Then go over those expense sheets and check the figures. I want to find out exactly where the errors lie. File all my old correspondence. I want all that done before morning.”

The commander walked away. Harry feigned dejection as he stood in the doorway. Wilkins, at the fireplace, noted Harry’s expression.

“Did the skipper hand you extra duty, Vincent?” questioned Wilkins.

“I’ll say he did,” replied Harry. “I’ve checked those expense sheets three times. Five dollars and thirty-two cents is the error that shows up. I’d rather pay it out of my salary than bother about finding it.”

“Tell that to the skipper,” laughed Holgate, who was seated beside Wilkins.

“Maybe I will,” growled Harry.

Returning to his room, Harry closed the door. He left the light on while he locked the big envelope in the table drawer. Then, as an afterthought, he opened the door and began to go over expense sheets, at the table, where men in the hall could see him.

HALF an hour passed. The men turned off the radio and headed for their rooms. Ten minutes after all were gone. Harry closed the door and extinguished the light. He was sure that no one suspected the important part that Commander Dadren had given him.

The Shadow’s scheme had worked. Harry Vincent had done well in the emergency. He had managed to obey The Shadow’s order. He had prevented the plane trip with the plans. Yet Harry was not quite sure that he had fulfilled the complete injunction.

Commander Dadren was flying to Washington, as scheduled. That trip had not been prevented. Nor could it be. Further argument with the stern commander might cause trouble. Yet Harry felt that he had accomplished the important part of The Shadow’s order. The plans, at least, were not going with Dadren.

The Shadow relied upon his agents to use their own judgment in a pinch. Harry Vincent had played his hand with success. He had done the most within his power. Tomorrow, a report to The Shadow. Then to Washington with the plans that Dadren had given him.