explain a lot of questions that will be asked. Bring me the reply.'
Burbank made occasional visits to Cranston's room during the course of the afternoon. At five o'clock a messenger arrived with a large envelope from Fellows. The packet was brought to the millionaire's room.
The Shadow smiled with satisfaction as he drew out several pages of data along with the photograph of a man in the uniform of a British officer.
'Very quick work,' he said musingly. 'Now to get Weston to look into the box. That will be easy.'
He took pencil and paper and wrote a careful message in longhand:
The box which was installed last night is an improved device to aid transmission. We are ready to test it.
Open the front of the box, press the button on the side, and look in. You will see intermittent lights. Make sure that they change regularly.
When you use the key, have some one else look in the box while you are operating, to make sure that the lights are regular. Since Duncan is asleep, you may intrust that simple duty to Major Weston. Your previous messages have been difficult to receive because of static. The new device, if it functions correctly, will over come that difficulty. Explain the matter to Major Weston.
The Shadow rapidly translated the writing into code. He rang the bell for Richards and dispatched the valet to the wireless room with the message.
Five minutes later the door of Lamont Cranston's room opened softly. Richards was standing in the hall, but he heard nothing. He did not even see the form that slipped silently up the stairs to the sending station in the tower - a form attired in a dark dressing gown.
Burbank was seated at a table on which stood a small screen. The room was dark. The wireless operator looked up as some one touched his shoulder. It was Lamont Cranston.
'In a minute,' said Burbank quietly.
A slight buzzing began. The small white screen was illuminated. The face of Harry Vincent appeared there, flickering like a motion picture.
The face disappeared; another took its place. It was the face of a square-jawed man - a man with a short mustache and close-cropped hair.
Lamont Cranston focused a small light on a picture which he held in his hand. He compared it with the image on the screen while Burbank looked on with interest.
'Identical,' whispered the millionaire.
'Excellent television,' replied Burbank.
The Shadow's fingers sought the sending key. They tapped a slow message.
'I am sending an O.K. to Vincent. Do not make any more complaints about static, Burbank. Let them think that it has been eliminated by the new device. I am greatly pleased by the clearness of the images.
The television apparatus has proven quite satisfactory. We may have occasion to utilize it further, Burbank.'
The image of Major Hubert Weston had disappeared. Burbank turned off the light, and the little screen was dark.
When Richards entered his master's room a short time later he found Lamont Cranston sound asleep in his chair by the window.
CHAPTER XXXIV. TWO MEN TALK
MAJOR WESTON sat in front of the open fireplace, watching the sparks fly upward as he puffed at a massive meerschaum pipe. He turned suddenly as the door opened. Harry Vincent entered.
'Ah!' said the major. 'I was just wondering when you would return. How is Bruce Duncan?'
'He seemed better after I got him home. The Hindu servant was waiting there and took charge of him. I think he will improve quickly. It was impossible to keep him here.'
'I agree with you. This place is too near the scene of his terrible adventure. We have enough trouble ahead of us without the added responsibility of a sick man.'
'I was wise to take him home to-day. To-morrow will be Sunday - heavy traffic on the road. I don't like those once-a-week drivers,' said Harry.
'You were away fourteen hours. You left at seven in the morning; it's only a few minutes past nine now.'
Harry Vincent picked up the ear phones and listened a while. Then he tapped a brief message.
'Reporting my return,' Harry explained to Weston. Then:
'Well,' he said, 'we have our instructions. Nothing to do until Tuesday. Then intercept the sixth man - if possible. I hope we have the same luck that Duncan and I ran into when we discovered you.'
'By the way,' said the Englishman, 'you said that you expected to pick up special instructions in New York. Did you receive them?'
'That's right!' exclaimed Harry. 'An envelope was waiting for me at Duncan's house. Abdul gave it to me. Here it is.'
Harry read the letter carefully, then tossed the paper into the fire. The Englishman noted that it turned over as it fell, but he did not observe writing on either side. The fact struck him as curious, yet he made no comment.
'Important instructions,' said Harry. 'First, no more wireless messages are necessary until Tuesday. We must be careful in our actions. We are to use our own judgment in finding the sixth man.'
'Good,' remarked the Englishman approvingly.
'If we find the man,' resumed Harry, 'I shall report immediately. But we must not, under any circumstances, tell him of Bruce Duncan's miraculous escape.'
'Why not?'
'It sounds too incredible. Our story is simply this: Duncan and I met you by chance and explained matters. We decided not to visit the meeting place at the time appointed. Duncan, acting independently, disappeared. We do not know where he is. We cannot understand it.
'We are afraid that he visited the ruins at midnight, yet we can scarcely believe that he could have been so foolhardy as to have gone alone. We are acting cautiously; hence we have not investigated. We know that danger lurks, and we are waiting for the crucial time before we take a single step. That time will be Wednesday - the day originally set for the authentic meeting.'
'Very well,' agreed the Englishman. 'I must confess that I would not have believed Duncan's story under ordinary circumstances. The idea seems to me to be the correct one. Let us set our minds to it; in all our conversation, we must speak of Duncan as one who has disappeared.'
BOTH men considered the matter mentally, and their thoughts concurred. After all, Bruce Duncan had actually disappeared. Their story was one of fact. The theory that Duncan might have gone, prepared for danger, to the meeting place was a correct deduction. To say that he had not returned would certainly be a curbing influence upon the sixth man. It would make him quite willing to abide by the wishes of Vincent and Weston, to follow any instructions that they might receive.
'I wonder why Bruce Duncan does not return,' remarked the Englishman casually as he lighted his pipe.
Vincent smiled. The major was accustoming himself to the story already. Vincent opened the front door a trifle. The room was smoky from the fire.
'What have you been doing all day?' he asked the Englishman.
'I tramped down to the village,' said Weston. 'A long hike it was. I was there most of the day.'
'That was a mistake,' observed Harry. 'You might have been seen.'
'By whom? I told my name to no one. You and Duncan went to the village frequently, didn't you?'
'Yes; but our case was different. We established a reason for being here. We even had Pennsylvania licenses on our car. You are here alone, with no reason for your presence. You are obviously a Britisher.
The natives are apt to talk about you.'
'Right-o,' said the Englishman. 'I never considered it in that light. What shall I do? Stay around here?'
'I guess that's the only thing to do. You might climb Rocky Summit to-morrow. That's the mountain from which Duncan and I observed the old ruined house.'
