'No,' replied Harry, 'that might have been a tipoff. There's just one thing to do now. The time has come.'
Harry picked up his revolver from the table; the flashlight was already in his pocket. Bruce went upstairs, where he had left his gun.
They walked through the woods until they saw the gleam of light from the cabin. Bruce had made one trip that far earlier in the evening, and had reported the light. Now they took a path that led to the right of the house.
'Perhaps we ought to go down and watch the bus arrive,' said Bruce. 'Then we'll be sure our man is here.'
'It's too far to the pike,' objected Harry. 'More than a half mile away from the path between Ridge Road and the cabin.'
'We can follow the man up here.'
'Yes, but we can't watch the cabin at the same time. Our instructions are to watch the meeting place.'
'I can do that while you go down to the bus stop.'
'Then we would be too far apart. I have a better plan, Bruce. Wait here a minute.'
They were below the cabin now, and their path had joined with the one that went from the hut in the woods to the Ridge Road.
'I'll stay here,' said Harry. 'You go down to the road and wait there. When our man comes along you will see him. He may have a light to find his way. He will probably stop to look for the path. It shows plainly from the road, but I suppose our man has never been here before.'
'That's a good compromise,' agreed Bruce. 'I'd rather watch the pike to make sure the bus stops. But we know the driver has let people out at this road, and it's the only way to the cabin. I'll stay in the bushes and keep watching. I'll only be a hundred yards away from you.'
'That's right, Bruce. I'm going to move up a bit so I can actually see the cabin. If you hear me call, or hear a pistol shot, come in a hurry. If you need me for an emergency, use the same signal.'
'What will I do when the man comes?'
'Follow him. I'll know when he walks along the path. If he has a light, I'll know that he is coming.'
'Suppose he has no light?'
'I'll hear him in the darkness. But I get your point, Bruce. You're figuring that there might be more than one man.'
'Right. We don't know what's going to happen. If the stranger is being followed, you might mistake the second man for me.'
'Well, when you reach this spot, whistle very low. Be sure you are far enough behind your man so your presence will not be known.'
Bruce moved silently toward Ridge Road. Harry stole along the path toward the cabin. He could see the gleam from here; one of the front windows of the house was also poorly screened from within.
Harry reached a spot not far from the cabin and took shelter among some bushes. The night was calm and still. It was cloudy, and the light of the waning moon was well-obscured.
Harry was wearing a wrist watch with a luminous dial; he consulted this from time to time. At half past eleven he figured that the bus was leaving the station. It should reach its stopping point within fifteen minutes.
Quarter of twelve, and still no sound from the cabin or from the road below. It would require nearly ten minutes for the arriving man to reach this spot.
Harry began to wonder about The Shadow. Was he here, too - that mysterious stranger who seemed to live in darkness? Harry believed that The Shadow must be close at hand - he usually was when trouble was brewing. The thought was comforting. He and Bruce might need help before this adventure was ended.
The watch showed one minute of twelve. The stranger should be here now. He should have been here before this. He should have passed by Duncan, at least.
WHAT was that? Some one coming along the path from the road? Harry could hear stealthy footsteps close at hand. He waited breathlessly. Then came a low, almost soundless, whistle.
It was Bruce Duncan.
Harry responded with a similar whistle. His friend followed the sound and crouched beside him in the shadow of the bush.
'Where is our man?' Harry whispered.
'I don't know,' was the soft reply. 'I stayed by the road until a few minutes ago. Then I was afraid he might have slipped by me.'
'It's the meeting time now.'
'Maybe the man didn't come.'
'That's possible.'
'My uncle's instructions specified that some of the men might not arrive.'
Fifteen minutes went by. Harry Vincent became uneasy. Bruce Duncan detected the fact.
'I know what you're thinking, Harry,' he whispered. 'You're wondering if everything is all right up ahead.
You want to do something about it. Well, I agree with you. The man hasn't come along. The cabin is our only bet.'
'Let's go,' responded Harry.
The young men moved silently toward the cabin. They reached the porch and crawled to the window on their hands and knees.
The tiny crack afforded very little vision; through it Harry could see only part of an empty room. He looked around for Bruce. He saw his companion turning the knob of the door.
'Come on,' urged Bruce as the door yielded.
They found themselves in a large room - the only room in the entire cabin. There was nothing there except a box on which stood a lighted lantern.
The effect of this discovery was stunning. The truth dawned upon Vincent and Duncan simultaneously.
The cabin was deserted. The lantern had been left there, with the shades partly raised, to mislead those who might see it from a distance.
The wily Bernardo Chefano had departed with his ape-faced man. He had planned well, planned to trick every one who might have suspected the crimes he had committed.
The cabin was not the meeting place.
The fourth man had gone to his doom!
CHAPTER XXVI. FELLOWS IS SUMMONED
AT four o'clock Thursday afternoon, Claude Fellows began to pace up and down his private office. The insurance broker seldom became perturbed, but on this occasion his chubby face expressed considerable worriment.
He had received no message from The Shadow since Tuesday morning.
This was something that had never happened before during a period of activity. Furthermore, there had been no answer to urgent messages which Fellows had sent to the office on Twenty-third Street.
The word which had come to Fellows on Tuesday morning had been contained in a letter which bore the postmark of Monday night. It had simply stated that Harry Vincent had made a direct report by wireless, that he had discovered the place which he had been seeking, and that Fellows would receive further word by Wednesday.
But on Wednesday, instead of receiving terse instructions from The Shadow, Fellows had been called by Harry Vincent - called by long distance from a town in Pennsylvania. Vincent's report had been disconcerting. He had not located the meeting place, after all. Things had gone wrong Tuesday night. He had lost the communication which he had established.
Vincent had spoken rather vaguely over the telephone, and Fellows had promised to reply by letter. For the present he could only advise Vincent to wait and to exert the utmost caution in all his actions. His final instructions were to report to him if there were any new developments.
