VINCENT TAKES ACTION
It was quarter past nine. The game of cards was over. Harry Vincent sat alone in Blair Windsor’s living room. He could hear the click of pool balls coming from the billiard room.
He had drawn a blank when he had tuned in on WNX. Not a significant word had been said in the program. The card game had ended abruptly, shortly before the radio announcer had terminated his talk over the air.
Philip Harper and Garret Buckman were going over to see Perry Quinn at the hospital. Blair Windsor and Bert Crull had decided to shoot a game of pool.
Harry Vincent felt desperate. He had been sure of a message from The Shadow, to-night. Now the situation was difficult. What should he do?
Vernon passed through the room. The presence of this man, who Harry felt sure was implicated in the plot against Blair Windsor, brought ominous thoughts to Harry’s mind.
Ten minutes went by. The clicking of the pool balls ceased. Blair Windsor entered the room. His face was frank and full of cheer. He eyed Harry’s glum countenance.
“What’s the matter, old man?” asked Windsor.
“Nothing,” replied Harry. “I’m just thinking.”
“Like to shoot a game of pool?”
“I don’t believe so.”
Blair Windsor sat in a comfortable chair.
“Phil and Garry have gone away overnight,” he remarked.
“They have!” exclaimed Harry.
“Yes. Bert Crull suggested it. Told them they would be foolish to try to get back here. It’s raining, and it’s liable to be a bad night. They followed his suggestion. They packed up before they left.”
“Where is Crull?” asked Harry anxiously.
“He had to go downtown,” replied Blair.
Harry arose and paced the room. He was sure that a plot was brewing. With Harper and Buckman out of the way, only he and Blair remained.
Why had Crull left? To summon the man who had captured Harry on that other night?
A bad night! It would be a bad night, if the enemy chose to act!
“What’s the trouble?” questioned Blair.
* * *
Harry Vincent studied the speaker closely. He realized that he was not the only one whose safety was at stake. This affair involved Blair Windsor too. Now was no time for silence.
Harry went over and shut the door, first assuring himself that Vernon was not in the hall.
“Listen, Blair.” Harry’s voice carried a stern emphasis that brought a look of surprise to the other’s face. “There’s trouble here. Real trouble. We’ve got to meet it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just this. People are plotting against you. I suspect both Bert Crull and Vernon.”
“Impossible!”
“It’s not impossible, Blair. Who lives in that farmhouse, over on the other side of the little hill?”
Blair Windsor shrugged his shoulders.
“Some old fellow who rented it from the farmer,” he replied. “He’s been over there quite a while. I’ve only seen him once or twice.”
“Why have Crull and Vernon visited him?” questioned Harry. “Did you know that they have been there?”
“No.”
“Well, they have. There’s something mysterious about it, too. Some person disappeared from your cellar, Blair. I think it was Vernon. I saw him in the farmhouse shortly after.”
“When?”
“The night I went away.”
“I thought you went away early in the morning.”
“I didn’t tell the exact facts,” explained Harry. “I went away that night — just to look in at the farmhouse. A man landed on my back, and grabbed me.”
Blair Windsor’s face became serious, and wondering. He seemed puzzled.
“Who was it?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” replied Harry. “I got away from him later.”
He paused for an instant; then decided that it would take too long to tell of his imprisonment in the shack in the woods. It was important to rouse his friend to action.
“Blair,” said Harry, “I suspected trouble here. I don’t know what it’s all about; but it concerns you. There’s a bad gang at work.
“We must be on guard. I suggest that you call Harper and Buckman. Bring them back to help us.”
Blair Windsor considered the suggestion. Then he shook his head.
“I believe you, Vincent,” he said. “One or two things have happened here that have just now come to my mind. You may be mistaken about it all; but if you are right, I think we can handle it alone.”
“Harper and Buckman would be a help, perhaps.”
“I agree with you. But if there is really danger, it must be met quickly. I’ll leave it to you. Shall we work on this right now, or later?”
“I think now is the time. If Bert Crull is in on it, he’ll be back before we can get hold of Harper and Buckman.”
Windsor’s willingness to take immediate action was good news to Harry Vincent. It was much better to take a hand now than to wait.
“You’re right, Blair,” said Harry. “Here’s what I suggest we do. Investigate the cellar first.”
“Fine. I have two automatics upstairs. Let’s get them.”
* * *
Harry’s own automatic was in the car, but he preferred to use the one that Windsor might supply.
He did not want to mention The Shadow. If he revealed the fact that he had come to Brookdale prepared, it might lead to questioning on Blair’s part.
“What about Vernon?” asked Harry, as Blair rose from his chair.
Blair Windsor nodded.
“I’ll get him out of the way,” he said. “He can drive the light car. I’ll send him downtown for some supplies.”
Windsor went into the hall and called Vernon. The man answered from upstairs. Blair went up to meet him on the landing. Vernon came down a minute later, counting items on his fingers, and muttering, “Eggs, potatoes, bread—”
The man left the house immediately. Blair Windsor arrived, carrying two automatics and a flashlight. He showed the cartridges in the dim light, and pressed one of the revolvers into Harry’s hand.
“Now for the cellar,” he whispered. “You’ll have to show me what happened.”
In the cellar, Harry explained the circumstances. The two men went to the corner where the shelves were located.
“This is the spot,” said Harry.
“Let’s pull at those shelves,” suggested Blair. “This corner is directly toward the hill. I’ll bet there’s a passage here.”
He pushed and tugged at different shelves, but with no success. Harry joined in the work.
As Blair Windsor stepped away, Harry suddenly obtained results. The whole section of shelves swung into the cellar, as though hinged. The flashlight showed a low, dark tunnel into the hillside.
“What about it?” questioned Harry. “Shall we go in? Or shall we wait?”
Blair hesitated. He paused, perplexed. He examined the shelves, and assured himself that they were loose. There was no danger of being trapped.
“We shouldn’t separate,” he said, quietly. “Better to stay together. I’ll go first, Harry. You follow. We’ll investigate and then return. If we run into trouble, use your gun.”
* * *
He extinguished the flashlight, and groped his way forward into the darkness. Harry followed, closing the shelves behind him. Thus they advanced, feeling the sides of the tube through which they were passing.
Then they entered a larger cavern. They must be a hundred feet from the house, Harry judged.
“Shall I use the light?” whispered Blair.
“Let’s listen, first,” replied Harry.
Everything was quiet. The minute that they waited seemed very long.
“Here goes,” whispered Blair Windsor. But before he could press the button of the flashlight, the place was suddenly illuminated. From the other side of the underground room, two men sprang upon them.
Blair went down beneath the onslaught. His automatic was torn from his grasp. He was helpless beneath the body of the man who had seized him. He cried for aid as he was pinned to the floor.
By a skillful bit of dodging, Harry escaped his own adversary. He fired three shots directly at the man as he hurtled by.
The range was extremely close. The shots could not fail to take effect.
At the sound of the reports, the other enemy arose from the prostrate form of Blair Windsor. The man leaped forward, and as he did so, Harry fired three more shots. They were aimed at the man’s body; but they did not stop his spring.
Harry fell beneath the man’s bulk.
Then came a great surprise. Instead of being inert, the man was grappling, thoroughly alive. Harry was totally amazed. His bullets had failed to take effect.
It was too late now to fire again, for he had lost his hold on his gun when he had attempted to push away the body of the man whom he had presumably wounded.
For an instant, Harry gained the advantage. His eyes were toward the wall, and he saw the first man rising.
He, too, was uninjured! He piled in to help Harry’s antagonist, and the struggle became hopelessly unequal.
Harry called to Blair Windsor. But no aid came. He caught a glimpse of Blair, half raised from the floor, resting on one elbow, watching the conflict.
One man had pinned Harry’s arms behind him. A big fist loomed, and Harry received a vicious punch squarely on the jaw. The room whirled, and went black.
Harry Vincent lay helpless and unconscious.