A mighty plane roared through the night. Its passengers were patiently awaiting the end of the journey. The speedometer dial showed one hundred and eight miles an hour. The altitude was slowly decreasing from five thousand feet.
Sherwood Mayo brought out a watch and pointed to its hands. The time was half past nine. The millionaire nodded, signifying that they were reaching their destination at the time he had anticipated. Stuart Bruxton nodded in return.
The plane was descending rapidly. Fleming, the pilot, had spotted the landing field. The ship swooped downward and swept along the ground. The cabin jolted as the speed diminished and the plane came to a stop. Fleming taxied back toward the lodge.
The three men entered the building to find Louie awaiting them. The Filipino had prepared coffee and sandwiches. Mayo and his guests sat down to discuss the trip.
"I said we'd be here at nine-thirty," declared Mayo. "Remember, I called up Greenhurst at six o'clock before we had dinner?"
"Yes," answered Stuart. "You mean I called up for you, and you talked to Louie. What a time I had getting that Greenhurst operator!"
"Telephone was out of order, sir," said the Filipino.
"When I called?" questioned Mayo.
"Making trouble then, sir. Now it is no good, sir."
Mayo snorted angrily. He picked up the phone and jiggled the hook. There was no response.
"Well," said Mayo. "we won't have to use it tonight. I'll inform the telephone company in the morning. This rural service is terrible."
"That was a great trip," declared Stuart. "Fleming is a great pilot. This night flight was interesting. But I was lost the minute we got away from the field."
"I couldn't place myself, either," Mayo said. "Saw the lights of some cities, but that was all. I was sleepy. Nice trip, but I'm glad it wasn't longer. I prefer the day ride."
The clock above the fireplace chimed ten. Stuart glanced at his watch.
"The clock's fast, isn't it?" he asked.
Mayo looked at his own watch.
"So it is," he said. "Never fast before. I can't understand that. Were you tinkering with it, Louie?"
"Clock stopped," said the Filipino. "I set it and start it again."
"That explains it," said Mayo.
Looking at the clock, Stuart observed the deer head above it. His eyes roved about the room, and he took in all the familiar furniture. The place was like home to Stuart, for he had been living at the lodge until today.
Louie was serving more coffee. Stuart had never forgotten the menace of the Filipino.
Perhaps it was the recollection of that murderous knife. Tonight, however, the man did not seem as repulsive as before. Stuart could not tell why.
A pleasant half hour passed. Fleming came in and joined the others with their coffee.
Stuart strolled over and tuned in the radio on station WNX. He settled back in a comfortable chair, and listened to the program.
The clock on the mantel chimed eleven. Mayo had not changed its hands. That meant five minutes to wait. Five interminable minutes, thought Stuart.
Benson and Grady — murderers both — were in this neighborhood! Tonight, he and Harry Vincent would have a chance to settle scores with the fiends!
Eleven o'clock at last! The voice of the announcer:
Before we proceed with our next number, as previously announced, let me remind you that the makers of Neapolitan Spaghetti have planned an unusual treat for you -
There was the secret message!
"Proceed as planned."
Stuart became suddenly alert.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed. "I must drop down to the Inn, Mayo. I've been expecting some mail — "
"Get it tomorrow," suggested the millionaire.
"No," said Stuart, "I'll have to pick it up now. I can get it before midnight. I'll run down there and see you later."
"How about the car, Fleming?" questioned Mayo.
"Flat tire, sir," said Fleming. "I can fix it — "
"I'll walk down," interposed Stuart. "I'll see you later, Mayo. Don't wait up if I'm a bit late for you."
"I'd go along with you," said Mayo, "but I am a trifle tired. I don't know why — we only came two hundred and forty miles, from New York."
Walking from the lodge, Stuart hurried his steps and passed the stone pillars. He happened to glance back, and was surprised to note that he could see the lights. The rise of ground between the house and the gate was not so great as he had supposed.
He walked along the road to the Inn. His mind was working rapidly.
The presence of Benson and Grady in Greenhurst must be a threat. Knowing that the two malefactors were close by, Stuart gripped his.32.
It would be wise to be on the alert, tonight. He felt sure that he and Harry Vincent would have important work to do.
Stuart did not like the idea of leaving Sherwood Mayo. He had conceived a real friendship for the millionaire, and he realized that Mayo might be the man whom Benson and Grady menaced. Harry would give him the details; after all, there would be no danger until midnight. They would have time to get back to Mayo's — especially as Harry would probably be there in his coupe. There were four enemies to be encountered: Benson, Grady, and two others.
There would have to be a surprise attack to conquer them. Stuart and Harry were only two -
Then came the thought of the man in black — that mysterious person who appeared by night, who had rescued Stuart during the fight with the Filipino, who sent his secret messages by radio. If he were here tonight!
The thought gave Stuart keen satisfaction.
So engrossed was Stuart in his thoughts that he did not realize how far he had gone along the road. He stopped, a bit puzzled, at a crossroads. He could not recall that crossing. There was a signpost. He struck a match and looked at it curiously. It indicated a town called Dalewood.
That was odd. Stuart had not heard of such a place in the vicinity of Greenhurst. He started along the road again; then realized that he was unfamiliar with his surroundings. The road was entirely new to him; yet between the Inn and Mayo's lodge, the road was easy to follow, with no chance of going astray.
A man was coming toward the crossroads, swinging a lantern. Stuart was impatient as he awaited the man's arrival. The stranger appeared to be a farm hand.
"Hello," greeted Stuart. "I've lost my way coming down from the lodge. Can you tell me how to get to the Greenhurst Inn?"
"Greenhurst?" The man spoke the name with a puzzled drawl. "There ain't no place round here by that name, I don't reckon — "
"I started from Mr. Mayo's lodge just — "
"Sure. I know where that is. Did you come in that airship of his?"
"Yes," said Stuart patiently, "I came in the plane. I started out to the hotel — the Greenhurst Inn — at Greenhurst — "
"I never heard of Greenhurst," objected the man. "There ain't no place named Greenhurst in this part of Virginia — "
"Virginia!" exclaimed Stuart. "Is this Virginia?"
It was the other man's turn to be astonished. He looked at Stuart as one would look at a crazy man. Slowly, the explanation dawned on Stuart. It was so incredible that at first he could not believe it!
Sherwood Mayo had decoyed him here. For some reason, he had suspected his new-found friend. The shrewd millionaire had two lodges that were identical — even to the furnishings — even to the Filipino valet!
It was not Louie at the lodge — that was why the murderous look was missing. It must be the Filipinos brother — perhaps his twin.
Stuart remembered the clock on the mantel — the clock that was never wrong! The lights of the house, visible from the gate! The flat tire on the car!
The plane had headed south after having New York. At night, Stuart had not known the direction was wrong. Mayo had spoken the truth when he said they were two hundred and forty miles from New York; but it was two hundred and forty miles in the wrong direction!
The call to the real Louie in the afternoon had been misleading. The fake Louie had said that the phone at the Virginia lodge was out of order. A prearranged plan — to prevent Stuart from calling the Inn!
It suddenly dawned upon Stuart that he was nearly five hundred miles from where he was supposed to be! Up in Massachusetts, Harry Vincent would be waiting for him.
Benson and Grady were there, too, planning some outrage. Who was to be their victim?
The answer came to Stuart.
Paul Hawthorne!
The man's fears of Sherwood Mayo were well grounded. The millionaire was in league with the assassins!
That was why Louie, the Filipino, had sought to kill Stuart! He had thought him to be Hawthorne. Mayo wanted the real-estate man to die a sudden death. It would have been explainable, with Mayo absent, and Hawthorne caught in the act of burglary!
Stuart realized he could do nothing. He had been decoyed. He was merely the victim of a practical joke so far as Mayo's action was concerned. Stuart could not help Harry; he could not even serve as a witness if Harry should be killed along with Hawthorne!
There was only one course. It came to Stuart in a flash. Dashing away from the astounded man with the lantern, Stuart started toward the lodge, drawing his revolver as he ran. He would settle this with Sherwood Mayo! Settle it at the point of a gun!
Stuart stopped suddenly. Perhaps that was what Mayo wanted! Would it be wise to go back there now?
As Stuart hesitated, he heard the roar of an airplane motor. A bright light rose above the trees. The speed plane whirred overhead, northward bound. Its brilliant light and its droning zoom were mighty mockeries to the frustrated man who stood below!