ENGLISH JOHNNY ARRIVES
Old Ezekiel Bingham looked at his watch. It showed a quarter of eight. He was alone in the room with the captured interloper, who lay seemingly lifeless. The man had not moved since he had been brought in from the porch.
The door opened; Tony and Jake entered, carrying lanterns. Another man was with them.
“Here’s Spotter,” said Jake. “Just came up in his car. We met him outside.”
The newcomer was short and thin, with a wicked-looking face and beady eyes. The top of his head was on a level with Jake’s shoulder; and Jake, despite his broadness, was not over six feet tall.
“Hello, Spotter,” greeted the old lawyer. “We just had some trouble here. Did you make a good search, boys?”
“We did,” declared Jake emphatically. “There’s nobody else around. This fellow we caught is probably some prowler who happened to be going through the woods. Did you ever see him before, Spotter?”
The short thin man stepped across the room and gazed at the face of the man on the floor.
“No,” he said. “He ain’t a crook; he ain’t a bull. I can tell you that by lookin’ at him. He’s some fellow from town who must have been walkin’ through the woods. Tony tells me he was lookin’ in the window when you caught him. Anybody might come lookin’ in if they was comin’ by.”
“That sounds logical, Spotter,” declared Bingham with approval. “Your opinion is worth a great deal. You know every criminal in the business; and you know every detective on the force. You are a valuable man.”
“Sure, I knows them all,” grinned Spotter. “That’s why they calls me ‘Spotter,’ ain’t it? What good is a name if it don’t mean nothin’?”
“Well, it’s good business,” declared the lawyer. “You see, Tony, there was a good reason to keep the window shut, with the shade down. I have taken that precaution while you were on your tour of inspection.”
“Guess you’re right, Mr. Bingham,” admitted Tony.
“How did you happen to discover the man, Jake?” inquired the lawyer.
“Just luck,” replied Jake. “I parked my bus at the side of the house and stepped up on the end of the porch. I saw him, and knew he didn’t belong here. So I landed on him.”
“Very good,” commended the lawyer. “Come in from the door, Tony. Close it when you do.”
Tony was standing, lantern in hand, on the porch before the door. Beside him was a long thin shadow that came from the steps and lay motionless in the light. No one noticed the peculiarly shaped blotch. It passed the shadow of the post beside the steps.
“You can take it from me,” said Tony as he stepped through the doorway. “There’s nobody within five hundred yards of this place. Jake and I did a real job.”
“That was what you were sent out to do,” declared the old lawyer.
Tony shut the door; and the shadow on the porch was obliterated. All was dark outside - dark and silent.
“Let us check up, first,” declared the lawyer. “There is only one more coming. We can hear from him later. How did you come, Tony?”
“I laid around a little town out here for a couple of days. I didn’t go back to the city after I left you the other night. No chance that anybody knows where I am.”
“How about you, Jake?”
“I’ve been down in Philadelphia for a month. I cleared out after the last job. I wasn’t in on this, and I’ve been working in a restaurant while I was away. I had my car down there and came straight through. I’m safe enough.”
“Well, Spotter?”
“Youse guys know I’m always safe. I went up in Connecticut. Bought an old car up there an’ came across the Sound in a ferryboat. Youse just know I looked ‘em all over on that boat. Why should anyone be followin’ me, anyway? It’s me that follows other people; not them that follows me.”
“Well,” declared Ezekiel Bingham, “my own case is, of course, exceptional. I have very little to avoid; nevertheless I took every precaution. I came here two days ago, and have remained alone since then.”
“What! Out here?” exclaimed Jake.
“Certainly. It is the safest possible place. Everything is arranged upstairs so that I receive an instant alarm when anyone enters here. I am awake at night, and sleep during the day and I sleep very little and very lightly.”
With the door and windows tightly shut, none of the men heard the arrival of another automobile. It was a large sedan which coasted up directly in front of the house, its motor shut off.
A big man stepped from the car and looked at his watch in the light of the dash lamp. A grunt of satisfaction came from his lips.
“Eight o’clock,” he said. “Just timed it right. Kennedy sure knows how to circle around in that plane of his.”
He struck a match, and the glare revealed his full red face. He puffed away at his stogie as he stood by the car. Then he walked to the steps and stopped a moment.
“Nice place this,” he chuckled. “No shadows out here.”
He seemed to be enjoying the combination of night air and cigar smoke.
“Well, I’m on time,” he observed. “Guess all the boys are here. Let them wait a couple of minutes for me.”
The red glow of the cigar deepened and softened alternately, as indication of the smoker’s puffs. Occasionally the glow disappeared for a few moments, as though it were subsiding in the hand of the man who held it and lowered it to his side. Two minutes passed; then the cigar light moved through the darkness toward the porch.
The boards creaked under heavy, solid footsteps. A large hand pushed the door open, and the man with the cigar stamped into the lighted room where the four men were seated.
“English Johnny!” exclaimed Jake.
“Hello, boys,” greeted the big man with a grin on his beefy face. “I’m just about on time, ain’t I?”
CHAPTER XXXIII
ENGLISH JOHNNY EXPLAINS
“We are ready for business,” declared Ezekiel Bingham, looking at the other men as they sat about the table. “Have you anything to report before we start?”
The question was addressed to the big man with the red face.
“Plenty,” was the reply.
A look of interest flashed around the crowd.
“What’s up, Johnny?” questioned Pete.
“Nothing, now,” replied the big man with a broad grin. “I was up - up in the air. That’s how I got here.”
He paused and studied the effect of his words. His listeners silently awaited his explanation.
“It was this way,” he continued. “Two nights ago a phony taxi driver tried to pull a fast one on me. I got rid of him quick enough. But that night I thought somebody came in my house.”
“You thought some one came in!” exclaimed Ezekiel Bingham. “Why didn’t you find out positively?”
“How can you find out?” questioned the big fellow. “How can you find out when you don’t see nothing but a lot of shadows?”
“Shadows aren’t people.”
“Yes, but I saw one shadow all by itself. It looked real.”
Ezekiel Bingham’s face showed his annoyance.
“Let me explain,” English Johnny continued. “This shadow hung around my house. It was in my room. I says to myself: ‘English Johnny, old boy, there’s some one here with you.’ So I wrote a phony letter and left it where anyone could read it. Then I took it to the mail box and faked putting it in.”
“Nonsense!” cried the old lawyer. “This is ridiculous. English Johnny talking about living shadows.”
“English Johnny is right,” declared Spotter solemnly.
Ezekiel Bingham stared at him in amazement.
“I mean it,” Spotter went on. “Croaker saw The Shadow the night he was killed. Others have seen The
