Treasures of Death

CHAPTER XV AT HARGATE’S

WENDEL HARGATE was in his study. This room on the second floor of the millionaire’s home, was located near the rear of the house. Two narrow windows, at the side, were set in alcoves. They were unshaded, for projecting walls made the interior of the room obscure from without.

Wendel Hargate was alone. The heavy safe in the corner, the large door that formed the chief entrance to the room and the smaller door that led to the library — these were tokens that made the place appear somewhat in the manner of a citadel.

The front door of the room had a round opening in the center. This was evidently a loophole, yet it was so cunningly fashioned that even a close observer would not have detected it. Terry Barliss and his companions had not noticed the movable opening on the occasion of their recent visit.

Wendel Hargate was going over papers that lay upon his desk. His face wore a habitual scowl. His large mustache seemed to bristle.

Suddenly, the millionaire looked up. He arose and approached the door with long, heavy stride. He swished the loophole open, peered through, then closed the aperture. He opened the door.

In stepped Thibbel, the millionaire’s servant. The hard-faced man looked grim tonight. He followed Hargate across the room and stood beyond the desk while the millionaire seated himself. Behind the closed, door, these two were going into conference.

“What about the watchmen?” questioned Hargate.

“They’re posted,” returned Thibbel. “Keeping along the side of the house.”

Hargate arose from his chair and strode to one of the alcoves. He raised the window and looked down into darkness. He caught sight of a stocky figure patrolling through the gloom of a narrow alleyway.

“All right,” decided Hargate, as he returned to his desk, after leaving the window open. “They’re on the job. Wait around until I’m through with these papers. I want to talk with you.”

Hargate’s inspection had evidently satisfied him that all was well outside. Yet in his glance from the window, the millionaire had failed to see a figure that would have attracted his immediate notice had he observed it.

CLINGING to the wall, a dozen feet above the alleyway, was a form that seemed like a batlike creature of inky hue. A spectral shape that might have been a clumpish chunk of solid night, this figure had been waiting until the patrolling watchman passed.

When no one was any longer below; when Hargate was no longer peering from above, the strange creature moved. A squdgy sound denoted its upward passage. The noise, however, was guarded and scarcely audible.

The Shadow had arrived outside of Hargate’s mansion. A weird phantom of the night, he was scaling the wall of the millionaire’s home. His hands and feet were equipped with rubber suction cups. Each pressure fastened these large disks against the surface of the wall. Each deft twist removed them at alternate intervals. Like a mammoth insect, The Shadow was crawling to an observation point.

The Shadow reached the window that Hargate had opened. Here he found purchase for his hands and feet. The rubber suction cups slid beneath the cloak that The Shadow wore. Keen, burning eyes appeared at the window.

The Shadow could see the profile of Wendel Hargate. Thibbel was standing with his back toward the open window. Watchful, yet unseen, The Shadow was able to overhear the conversation which was just beginning between these two.

“You’re sure,” Hargate was saying, “that those two watchers know nothing about Sooky Downing?”

“Not a chance,” returned Thibbel. “They’re tough babies, but they aren’t mobsters.”

“Good,” decided Hargate. “We took too long a chance before, Thibbel.”

“I know it right enough,” affirmed the hard-faced servant.

Hargate growled a laugh.

“You ought to know it, Thibbel,” said the millionaire. “It’s lucky that Sooky was killed in the fight. They might have traced the negotiations that you held with him. These gang leaders have their own code; they never squeal on a pal. At the same time, you took the mob into trouble; and, after all, you do not rate as a member of the underworld.”

“They made the trouble themselves,” asserted Thibbel. “I told them to keep the guns out of sight. They didn’t have to open fire so quick when they trapped that fellow and he shot the flashlight. Just the same — when the fun began, they went through with it. They got theirs.”

“All except you.”

“Well, I was wise. I dived toward the door of Salwood’s office, like I told you. After the firing was all over, I did a sneak. The dumb detective nearly plugged me, though, when I was making my get-away through the window.”

“You’re sure he didn’t recognize you?”

“I don’t think he did.”

Hargate tapped the desk roughly. He was thinking over Thibbel’s last statement.

“I’ll tell you, Thibbel,” he declared. “If Cardona ever tracks you through Sooky, you’ll have to leave the city in a hurry. That’s why I have these watchmen here. We never can tell what may happen.

“I’m within my rights. Particularly since I’ve been robbed. Naturally, I want to keep the place guarded” — Hargate chuckled as he spoke — “and these fellows will pass muster. You’ll have a chance to hurry away if Cardona shows up.

“Once he gets on the trail, he’ll be after you for murder. I can explain myself! I have an alibi for the night that Salwood was killed.”

“I don’t see how they can hook it on me,” protested Thibbel. “That knife wasn’t mine—”

“They don’t need complete proof,” interposed Hargate solemnly. “The fact that you were with the mobsters is sufficient to implicate you for murder. Cardona is a pretty wise detective, even though we know that he can slip. Your chief safety lies in the fact that he may be unable to prove that you were with Sooky’s mob. But if he finds out only that you made the arrangements beforehand, he will have to use clever tactics in order to get the evidence he needs.”

“You mean—”

“That he may put detectives watching you. That’s why I want you to keep away from any of the gangsters whom you know. You are too valuable in my present plans.”

THIBBEL made no comment. Hargate adopted a reflective growl, as he talked with this man who passed as his servant, but who evidently was his chief lieutenant. Hargate’s colloquy was audible to The Shadow, at the open window.

“We wouldn’t have had to go after Salwood,” declared the millionaire, “if he hadn’t double-crossed us. I wanted what was mine. I saw the way to get it. I advised you to go alone. You wanted companions. You saw the trouble they caused.”

“It wasn’t my fault—”

“Let’s forget that angle of it. Salwood is dead. That ends his part. He double-crossed me once; he was ready to tell all that he knew about me. That would not have been damaging, for I could claim the whole thing as a legitimate transaction.

“Nevertheless, we haven’t finished. I’m going through with all that I have planned. We’re going to use careful methods, and we can do it now that Salwood is out of the picture. Eli Galban thinks that he is mighty safe in that out-of-the-way house of his. He’s going to learn that he’s wrong.”

“I don’t think it will take us long,” declared Thibbel. “Galban’s place is a tough one to crack—”

“But we intend to go about it right. That’s settled. We may have trouble there, but it will finish matters the way we want it. We must be careful, however, not to have any one find out any of our plans. That applies particularly to Cardona; it also applies to all others.”

“Who, for instance?”

“Young Barliss. He brought Cardona here. I don’t want to be questioned until we have finished our work. I don’t think that Cardona suspects anything as yet; but young Barliss—”

Hargate broke off as a telephone rang upon his desk. It was an inside wire, used for communication within the house, for Hargate pressed an answering connection on his desk before he lifted the receiver.

“What’s that?” he questioned sharply. The Shadow could see the scowl on his face. “He is, eh? All right, Tompkins…Yes, tell him I’ll see him…Yes, Thibbel will come down to bring him up.”

Hargate slammed the receiver. Thibbel, stepping away from the desk, could see a look of anger on the millionaire’s face. The servant’s countenance hardened. The Shadow could see it from the window.

“Young Barliss is downstairs,” growled Hargate. “He wants to see me.”

“You’re going to let him see you?”

“Certainly. He’s alone. Bring him up, Thibbel. I’ll handle him on my own account. I don’t think he knows anything. It won’t take me long to find out.”

Thibbel went through the front door of the room. He closed the barrier behind him. Wendel Hargate arose and paced the space behind the deck. The millionaire’s face was hardened; then a suave smile appeared beneath his large mustache.

Hargate was facing the window when he registered his new expression. All that the millionaire saw was blackness. The eyes of The Shadow had vanished. But as Hargate turned back toward his desk, the peering eyes again appeared.

The interview between Wendel Hargate and Terry Barliss was to take place in this very room. Alone, these two would match their wits: Terry, with a quest to gain; Hargate, with facts to conceal.

Neither would know that a third person would be present during their discussion. Neither would suspect the presence of The Shadow. The Shadow knew Terry’s theory. The Shadow had heard Hargate’s talk with Thibbel.

A challenge was impending. The Shadow would be ready when it broke! His spectral form was looming, almost within the window. There was no weapon in The Shadow’s grasp; instead, his right hand, ungloved, rested just within the fold of the black cloak.

The coming encounter was not of The Shadow’s making. He had responded to the need of circumstances. This meeting was a forced step in The Shadow’s plan to reach the master crook whose mandates Compton Salwood had obeyed until his death.

The Shadow was in readiness for the events that were to come.