The Shadow Laughs

CHAPTER XXIII VINCENT RETURNS TO BROOKDALE

The morning had brought no worries to Harry Vincent, for the simple reason that he slept completely through it. It was after two o’clock when he awoke: He had spent two nights with very little sleep.

The problem of returning to Brookdale had been a troublesome one. There was no convenient means of transportation. A roundabout bus trip had been the only available method.

Then there had been difficulty in finding a car to reach Blair Windsor’s house. Hence it was after six o’clock when Harry arrived there.

He had decided to say nothing of what had actually happened to him. He knew that it would be difficult to explain his absence of sixty hours; but an alibi was the only course.

He was sure that at least one of three people in the house — Quinn, Crull, or Vernon — were in league with the man who had captured him. He must do nothing that would betray this knowledge.

Blair Windsor, standing on the porch, gazed in amazement at Vincent’s arrival.

“Where have you been, Harry?” he questioned. “We have been worrying about you.”

“Didn’t you get my message?” asked Harry, in feigned surprise.

“What message?”

“The note I left — two days ago — in the morning. I went away before any one was up. I’m sure I left the note in the living room. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Blair Windsor shook his head.

“To tell you the truth, Harry,” he said, “we didn’t realize anything about it until last night, on account of Perry Quinn.”

“How was that?” Harry Vincent’s surprise was genuine, now.

“He tried to commit suicide, the day before yesterday, in the morning.”

Garret Buckman and Philip Harper appeared on the porch, and their arrival caused an interruption. A moment later, Bert Crull joined the group.

All seemed pleased as well as surprised at Harry’s return.

“Here’s what happened,” explained Blair Windsor soberly, as the men sat down to talk it over. “You know how worried Quinn has been? Well, he was in a financial jam, and we didn’t know it. We knew he had been acting somewhat morose; but we didn’t make any comment about it.

“Day before yesterday, Quinn received a letter. We had come down to breakfast. You and Harper were the only two who weren’t there. Quinn went upstairs, looking worried.

“When he didn’t come down, Garry Buckman became suspicious. He went up to Quinn’s room. The fellow had swallowed some poison.

“There was a big rush after that. I drove away to get a doctor. The others gave him first aid. We took him off to the hospital, after the doctor came. They pulled him through, all right. But everybody had something to do, after that.

“Buckman went down to Boston, to straighten affairs up for Quinn. Harper and I drove over to Springfield, where Quinn’s folks live. We didn’t know what became of you and Crull. We knew Crull was probably here, and we thought you had been asleep when the whole trouble began.

“Coming in at odd hours of the night, we didn’t see one another. Yesterday, you weren’t around in the morning. We thought maybe you had gone with Buckman, who didn’t get back until the evening.

“Then I happened to see your car in the garage. We’ve been wondering about you since then.”

“I was gone before the trouble began,” replied Harry. “I woke up very early, day before yesterday. Then I realized something that I had totally forgotten.

“I had a business engagement in New York; funny thing — I never remembered it when I started on this vacation tour. I decided that it was best to go by train. I was going to drive to Springfield and leave my car there.

“When I looked at the schedules, I found I had time to walk into the village and catch a bus to Springfield. So that’s the way I did it. Thought my car would be safer here.

“I left a note, saying I wouldn’t be back until to-night.”

“We never found your note,” said Blair Windsor.

“I must have forgotten to leave it,” admitted Harry.

He was sorry that he had not first listened to Blair Windsor’s story; but as he looked around the group, Harry quickly assured himself that they had believed his tale. The frank countenance of Blair Windsor was sufficient proof of the fact.

The only member of the party who looked doubtful was Bert Crull. He said nothing.

This merely confirmed Harry Vincent’s suspicions. Now that Perry Quinn’s actions had been explained, Bert Crull was the dangerous person.

He probably knew all about Harry’s capture. So, of course, he would not question the story that Harry had told.

Dinner was ready. The men went in to their meal. As soon as they had finished, Harry decided to go into the village to mail a letter.

He brought his car from the garage, and lost no time in finding a suitable place to arrange his wireless equipment. Despite his hurried preparations, he gained immediate results. A reply came in the secret code.

Harry sent a quick report of what had transpired. He had worded the details while he was driving in the car. He expected an immediate response.

He was somewhat disappointed when he received word to tune in at nine o’clock. He felt that action must be quickly taken.

He pondered on this subject as he returned to Blair Windsor’s estate. There would not be a great deal of information coming with the WNX broadcast.

Probably he would be ordered to reopen communication with his wireless set; or to bide his time for the present.

Yet he felt that his situation was growing untenable. Crull must now recognize him as an enemy. Vernon would be suspicious, also.

What if he should tell his true story to Blair Windsor?

That would be serious for his enemies — particularly Vernon.

Windsor might not believe that Crull was implicated. Blair was too open-hearted a fellow to suspect one of his guests. Perhaps he might feel the same about Vernon, a servant of many years. But Harry believed that he could convince Blair Windsor of the true situation.

Danger was threatening.

Suppose that Crull or Vernon should choose to act to-night? They might attack Harry; or their mysterious confederate might be called into action again.

Who was that fellow?

Harry suspected that he was the man who had driven into the yard beside the farmhouse, the evening that he had come to Brookdale.

Harry mapped his course. He would wait until nine o’clock. The Shadow would probably give him advice. Yet, the situation was much more complicated than he had indicated in his report.

If The Shadow said to wait until tomorrow, the situation would be difficult. An order to send another report, and to discuss matters direct by wireless, would be the best way out.

One thing about The Shadow. He liked to see his men act independently in an emergency, provided they worked with intelligence. That left a way open for Harry.

His final resort came to mind as he approached Blair Windsor’s house.

If the enemy appeared ready to strike, Harry could tell everything to Windsor — eliminating any direct reference to The Shadow. With Buckman and Harper, they would have a force equal to the enemy.

Good old Blair Windsor! — thought Harry. A likable chap, who had had a lot of trouble lately.

His brother accused of murdering his friend, Frank Jarnow. Perry Quinn an attempted suicide. Now, this unknown danger hovering over him — enemies at work with a secret entrance into the very cellar of his home!

Entering the house, Harry found the four men playing cards. It was eight o’clock. He joined them.

He watched Bert Crull as the game began. The man’s face betrayed nothing. He was clever, and therefore doubly dangerous.

Vernon was there, too. The gray-haired servant was attending to trifling details in the room. His face, like Crull’s, was impassive.

Harry Vincent became tense as the minutes ticked by. He could scarcely wait until the hour of nine — the time when he would receive his message from The Shadow!