The Silver Scourge

CHAPTER X HARRY FINDS HIS MAN

“Good afternoon, Mr. Vincent.”

Harry surveyed the speaker, who gave him the friendly handclasp. Clayton Landow, general manager of the Kendall Theater Corporation, was a man of about thirty years of age, with frank and friendly eyes. He wore a serious, businesslike expression, that was in keeping with the important position which he held.

“Sorry,” remarked Landow, as he looked across his desk. “I understand that you called this morning, and have been dropping in to see me since then.”

“Yes,” returned Harry. “They told me in the outside office that you were out of town.”

“I have quite a few theaters to take care of,” said Landow, with a smile. “I spend two or three days a week touring the circuit, so to speak. When did you arrive in town, Mr. Vincent?”

“Last night.”

“You intend to remain in town for a while?”

“Until I can complete business arrangements with you.”

Landow smiled more broadly. He fingered the card which lay upon his desk — the one which Harry had sent in to gain this interview.

“You represent the United Theater Chain,” said Landow. “A large concern, and a good one. I do not, however, see the connection between your organization and ours.”

“That is easily explained,” answered Harry. “The United is increasing its territory. We plan to take in this district. Usually, we deal with individual theaters. Our plan is one of amalgamation.”

“So I have heard,” said Landow. “You absorb single theaters as units in your system. Here, however, you are considering an organization which already constitutes a chain. There are sixteen units in the Kendall Theater group.”

“All the better,” stated Harry, “Our proposition will hold good on a larger scale. Through association with United, the Kendall Theaters will strengthen their position in this territory—”

“Not one bit,” interposed Landow, with a slow shake of his head. “The Kendall Theater Corporation is established. I know what you have to offer, Mr. Vincent. I am sorry to end your hopes. We do not intend amalgamation. On the contrary, we have planned expansion of our own individual enterprise.”

The bluntness of young Landow’s statement did not faze Harry Vincent. Playing the part of a skillful promoter, The Shadow’s agent sought to find a loophole in Landow’s decisive answer.

“Your opinion is a natural one,” declared Harry. “Nevertheless, the situation is one which we have previously encountered. Practice has shown that when circuits such as yours have accepted the United proposition, the results have been even better than when individual theaters have joined with us. Naturally, I feel that your board of directors should have an opportunity to consider this proposal—”

“Looking for a higher court of appeal, eh?” questioned Landow. “I don’t blame you, Mr. Vincent. The general manager of an organization is not the final authority, and I do not pretend to hold full power. Our board of directors is, however, entirely in accord with one man.”

“Foulkrod Kendall?”

“Yes. He is the president of the corporation.”

“Mr. Kendall appears to have great influence in New Avalon,” observed Harry.

“He has,” returned Landow. “That, in a sense, is the reason for my frank decision. The name of Kendall is of much more importance in this district than that of the United Theater Chain. Our identity is a stimulus to business, Mr. Vincent.”

“Nevertheless—”

“You would like to hear what Mr. Kendall has to say. That is easily arranged. It is hardly necessary, however. You have already heard his answer — for I have given it.”

LANDOW’S smile became sympathetic as the young man noted Harry’s look of resignation. Landow seemed to appreciate the situation as Harry would naturally view it. Therefore, although he had stated definite facts, Landow sought a way to ease his visitor’s doubt.

“I can imagine what you are thinking,” said Landow, “Your visit here has proven a blind one. Not only have you failed in New Avalon; you are checked throughout this entire territory. It would be unfair to ask you to go back to New York with no other report to give than this short visit with me. Therefore, I shall arrange for you to meet Mr. Kendall.”

“I would appreciate it,” said Harry. “May add a request? If I could talk to Foulkrod Kendall at a time when he is not busy with other matters—”

“That can be arranged. An evening appointment would be best. How long do you intend to be in town?”

“No longer than is necessary, now that my purpose here seems useless.”

Clayton Landow was thoughtful. He understood Harry Vincent’s position, and he was sorry that he had been forced to give such a brusque turndown to the United representative. Landow glanced at a clock. It indicated ten minutes of five. He picked up a telephone, and called a number.

“Let me speak to Miss Kendall,” he requested. Then, after a pause: “Hello, Miriam. This is Clayton… Yes… At seven sharp. That is why I am calling. I have a friend whom I would like to bring to dinner… A man from New York. A Mr. Vincent — theatrical representative… Yes, he is anxious to meet your uncle… Excellent. I shall bring him with me.”

Landow hung up the receiver and turned to Harry.

“You are going out to dinner with me,” the manager announced. “A party at Foulkrod Kendall’s home. You will meet Mr. Kendall there, and you will have occasion to remember your visit to New Avalon.”

“I appreciate this,” declared Harry. “It is very kind of you to offer such an opportunity—”

“That’s all right,” said Landow. “Don’t worry about evening clothes — it’s just an informal affair. I’ll stop at your hotel at six thirty. You are at the New Avalon?”

“Yes.”

HARRY VINCENT found it hard to repress his elation as he walked back to his hotel. Here was the opportunity he had wanted. A mere business trip to Foulkrod Kendall’s office would hardly have sufficed. A social meeting at the millionaire’s home offered real possibilities.

Time passed rapidly until half past six. Harry Vincent was in the lobby, carefully watching out for a chance entry of Vic Marquette, when he saw Clayton Landow enter the revolving door of the hotel.

Harry joined his new friend, and they drove in the theatrical manager’s coupe until they had passed the outskirts of the city. The car turned right from a broad road, Landow making a comment as he swung the wheel to make the turn.

“Straight ahead,” he said, “leads to the new silverware factory. A wonderful enterprise, that business. Many of the employees live in the neighborhood of the plant. This road takes us to Kendall’s mansion.”

Another turn brought the coupe between a pair of huge stone pillars. Harry looked along a tree-lined driveway; then the car came to a stop in front of a magnificent residence constructed in vast Colonial fashion.

Clayton Landow conducted his guest into the building. A servant ushered them into a hallway; then into a large living room, where Harry was introduced to a group of people. The Shadow’s agent found himself shaking hands with Foulkrod Kendall.

“Glad to meet you,” said the bluff-faced millionaire. “So you’re from New York, eh? Quite a way from there to New Avalon. I just came back from New York myself.”

“You could have received your answer there, Vincent,” observed Landow, with a smile.

“I was at a silverware manufacturers’ convention,” explained Kendall. “That’s my chief business. These theaters are a side line.”

“Rather an attractive one,” observed Harry.

“Doctor Guyon thinks so,” laughed Kendall. “Don’t you, Conrad?”

The question was addressed to a tall, stoop-shouldered man who was standing close by. It brought a slow smile to the doctor’s lips.

Harry had been introduced to Conrad Guyon, but this was his first inkling that the wise, sophisticated gentleman was interested in Kendall Theaters.

“The theatrical business has proven profitable,” declared Guyon, in a slow, decided tone. “Beyond my expectations, I must state. This must be perplexing to you, Mr. Vincent — to find a silverware manufacturer and a physician as the ruling forces in a theatrical enterprise, with a governor’s son as the general manager.”

“It is unusual,” admitted Harry.

“Doctor Guyon is a wise investor,” asserted Kendall. “He holds stock in various enterprises in which I am associated. He still persists in being a physician, but he has made his fortune through commercial propositions.”

HARRY noted that he and these three men now formed a group apart from all the rest. This was evidently a planned procedure, for Clayton Landow promptly brought up the subject which he had discussed with Harry that afternoon.

“Regarding the United Theater Chain,” began the governor’s son. “I told Mr. Vincent that he might mention it—”

“Landow called me at my office,” interrupted Kendall, turning to Harry. “He told me why you were in town. The answer which he gave you was final. I have absolute authority to decide; nevertheless, I discussed the subject with Doctor Guyon, who is as large a shareholder in Kendall Theaters as myself. His opinion is the same as mine.”

Doctor Guyon was nodding wisely as Kendall spoke.

“I do not doubt,” continued Kendall, “that your proposition has its merits. Nevertheless, our decision stands. We are making the profits that we expect. That closes us to all outside suggestions.”

There was a slight challenge in Kendall’s tone. Harry Vincent caught it, and nodded his head in acknowledgment. He knew that he was welcome here as a guest; as a proponent of a rejected business deal, he might lose Kendall’s favor. He could see signs of apprehension displayed by Clayton Landow.

Harry acted wisely.

“I simply needed your own answer, Mr. Kendall,” he said. “I appreciate your frankness. It enables me to go back to New York and report that I have done my utmost. Let me wish you the greatest of success in your theatrical enterprises, and let me add that should you ever care to change your decision, the United Theater Chain will be glad to hear from you.”

Clayton Landow seemed pleased by Harry’s tactful statement. Doctor Guyon still nodded his approval. Foulkrod Kendall smiled. The millionaire felt himself a theatrical magnate. This visit from the representative of a New York corporation now added to his pride.

Besides putting himself in Kendall’s favor, Harry had gained a keen insight into the millionaire’s character, and that of two of Kendall’s associates. Kendall, himself, was a domineering man. Although he was commercially successful, Harry suspected that the millionaire was not above petty and unfair practices.

Doctor Conrad Guyon, on the contrary, impressed Harry as a man of science, who had wisely invested his earnings with going enterprises. From the business standpoint, Guyon was no more than Kendall’s echo, blindly following the millionaire’s lead.

Clayton Landow, a likable young chap, was Kendall’s prospective nephew by marriage. As son of the governor of this State, Landow probably gave distinction to the theatrical venture. Despite his title of general manager, Landow was actually no more than a detail man who took all important orders direct from Kendall.

The guests went in to dinner. During the sumptuous repast, Harry made the acquaintance of a young lady on his left. He learned new facts; that Doctor Guyon, recognized highly as a psychiatrist, was newly appointed examining physician in the State penitentiary, located in New Avalon; and that the marriage of Clayton Landow and Miriam Kendall, Foulkrod’s niece, was scheduled to take place within three months.

IT was after dinner, however, when the guests were chatting in the living room, that the principal event occurred so far as Harry Vincent was concerned. Within the space of a few minutes, The Shadow’s agent gained his final accomplishment in the city of New Avalon.

A new guest was announced. Harry arose as the man entered the living room, and faced a tall, immaculately garbed young man whose shrewd but handsome countenance was adorned with a neatly pointed mustache. It was not until he was shaking hands that Harry heard the arrival’s name. Foulkrod Kendall announced it as he made the introduction.

“Mr. Ronald Elverton,” said the millionaire. “He is a representative from Highby-Tyson, Limited, England’s greatest manufacturers of silverware. He has come to visit our plant.”

Ronald Elverton!

The name rang in Harry’s ears. This was the man whom he had come to seek. Once Elverton had reached New Avalon, The Shadow was to be notified.

Elverton passed to others of the group. Harry Vincent noted the man’s profile. Harry’s suspicions were aroused. The Shadow’s agent smiled to himself as he made the mental comment:

“If that chap is from Highby-Tyson, I’m actually the representative of the United Theater Chain!”

The masquerading agent of The Shadow felt sure that he had discovered a crook in smooth disguise. Elverton, a guest in Foulkrod Kendall’s home. Traced through the millionaire!

Tonight, Harry would send a telegram to New York. Its innocently worded message would tell Rutledge Mann that the quest was ended. One of two replies would come, to tell Harry whether or not to remain in New Avalon.

Considering the future, however, Harry felt sure that his recall would be dependent entirely upon The Shadow’s present activities. If the master of darkness were free to leave New York, he would come at once; if not, he would reach New Avalon as soon as possible.

With crime brewing — whatever it might be — the work would belong to The Shadow.

Harry Vincent had found his man!