toward the white sand. He sprawled beneath the shade of the last fringe of trees, then rolled until his fingers clutched the hot granulation of the beach.
For long, wearied minutes, Zachary Chittenden lay panting, staring up at the blueness of the sky. A wisping breeze cooled his face; it seemed to end as it neared the edge of the grove that he had left, for not a leaf was stirring on those copper-tinged boughs.
Rising, Zachary went along the shore beside the trees. The close proximity of the overhanging branches brought a shudder to his shoulders. Here, in the open sunlight, back in a world where all was bright, the man was in a daze as he hurried to shake off the hideous impressions of that fatal cavern-like grove.
NOT until he reached the golf course did Zachary Chittenden recover from his groggy trance. He moved stolidly across the carpet-like grass, and arrived at the foot of the hill, where he made his way to Upper Beechview. He paused to rest upon the terrace, and, as he leaned his elbows on the parapet, Zachary Chittenden allowed an evil smile to play across his bloated lips.
He, alone, had witnessed the striking power that lay within the fearful grove. Before his eyes, his father and Wilbur’s dog, Beowulf, had been carried into oblivion. Walter Pearson; then Wilbur Chittenden; now Galbraith Chittenden. Father, lawyer, and second son - all were gone.
They were dead!
The passing of these three was shrouded in mystery. Who could tell of it? It would be long before the search for the missing lawyer would end; as for Galbraith and Wilbur Chittenden, no one would suspect their absence for days to come.
That would be the beginning of a long procedure, in which the estate of Galbraith Chittenden would eventually go to the surviving members of the family. Well did Zachary know the terms of the will - so worded that the eldest living son would be the chief recipient.
There were two sons living, now - two sons of Galbraith Chittenden. Harvey was one; Zachary was the other. Should Harvey die - Zachary’s smile widened as he stared across the grove to the lawn of Lower Beechview - then there would be but one.
Until but one Chittenden remained to claim undisputed title to the family wealth, there could be no peace. Those who had died to date - outsiders as well as those of the family - had perished because they were obstacles to ambition. The next encounter lay between Harvey and Zachary; that was the cause of Zachary’s smile. For this evil schemer was mentally alert, planning the death of his sole remaining brother.
ONCE again, dusk was creeping over Upper Beechview, while Zachary Chittenden watched. The grove of doom was blackening in the glow of early evening. It lay like a huge, unmoving monster, in the midst of the land below.
A sound from beside the house attracted Zachary’s attention. He recognized his man, Banks, coming past the terrace. Leaning over the edge, Zachary called in a low tone.
“Keep close watch tonight, Banks.”
The man nodded.
“Expecting trouble?” he asked.
“Maybe,” said Zachary. “We’ll see. But I have a hunch we’ll be starting some before any comes our way. I want to see you and the rest of the crew some time tonight. So be around, about midnight.”
When Banks had gone, Zachary Chittenden went back into the house. The scene upon the terrace gave no sign of human presence. Off beyond the parapet, however, a silent shape was gliding along the ground. That shape signified The Shadow.
The master of darkness was here at Upper Beechview. Once more had Lamont Cranston assumed his mysterious identity. The Shadow, weird phantom of the night, had come to watch Zachary Chittenden, the only living person who - beside The Shadow, himself - had emerged unharmed from out the grove of doom!
CHAPTER XII
THROUGH THE NIGHT
THAT same evening, at Lower Beechview, a small, tense group sat discussing the affairs of the late afternoon, up until the departure of Galbraith and Zachary Chittenden. The members of this conversing group were Harvey Chittenden, Mildred Chittenden, and Craig Ware.
Harvey was bitter in his remarks. Seated in the living room of his home, he voiced his animosity toward his father and his brothers, while Mildred sat hushed, and Ware solemnly smoked his pipe.
“Coming here to look for Wilbur!” sneered Harvey. “A fine excuse, I call that! I’ll tell you why they came here; they wanted to see what I was doing; they wanted to spy on me. First they sent Pearson; then maybe Wilbur sneaked around; at any rate, they became bold enough to walk right in on me during the day. If they come again - well, I’ll be ready for them.”
“I think you’re wrong to feel that way, Harvey,” observed Ware, in a frank tone. “Your father seemed very much perturbed, this afternoon. He seemed sure that some harm had befallen Wilbur. Remember, too, that Walter Pearson has disappeared. I do not wonder that your father is alarmed.”
“What do I care?” questioned Harvey. “If my father should disappear - and Zachary, too - it would not matter to me. I have suffered too long from my family’s persecution.”
“Harvey,” said Mildred mildly, “I cannot understand the malice that you display toward your only relations.”
Harvey Chittenden looked toward his wife. Mildred was very beautiful tonight. In the lamplight, her eyes shone clearly, and her raven hair glistened with an entrancing hue. An angry sentence died on Harvey’s lips. His manner softened, and he spoke quietly.
“It is not malice, Mildred,” he explained. “It is worry. All my life I have been beset by constant fear. I have always felt that Wilbur and Zachary would spare no effort to harm me.
“As for my father - if he could only see what I have suffered, I could feel deep affection for him. But circumstances have made him one with Wilbur and Zachary. The animosity that I have displayed is really a desire for self-protection. That is all.”
Craig Ware puffed at his pipe while Mildred nodded to indicate that she understood Harvey’s feelings.
“Self-protection,” repeated Harvey. “That is why, Craig, I talked with Jessup this afternoon, and arranged for him to keep the workmen on the premises. They appear to be good, capable fellows, and they are armed. I actually fear that someone may attack this place at night.”
“That is ridiculous,” responded Ware. “Nevertheless, Harvey, it is wise for you to keep your men, if it gives you any peace of mind. But I do not see any need of fearing prowlers.”
Instantly, Mildred’s mind reverted to the night when she had watched from the bench beside the shore. She had seen two prowlers then. Had they come from Upper Beechview, through the grove?
The girl could picture the fiendish Chinaman, who called himself Lei Chang, and who had spoken of a mysterious Koon Woon. Was Koon Woon the phantom form in black? What terrible secret lay buried in that grove so close to Lower Beechview?
ODDLY enough, Harvey, replying to Craig Ware, was voicing thoughts that had entered Mildred’s mind, although his ideas were general, where hers had been specific.
“That woods beside the house,” Harvey was saying, “is a good place to keep away from. I don’t like it, and I would suggest that you and Mildred stay out of it. If any of those people on the hill” - his eyes glistened in unrestrained animosity - “should choose those trees as a place to hide, they could watch us here at mighty close range. I can’t help it, Craig, if I regard my brothers as snakes. They have shown themselves as nothing better than reptiles. Evil natures, such as theirs, seldom undergo a change.”
“Your father and your brother went into the grove,” remarked Ware quietly. “Your father seemed to have an idea that Wilbur might have lost his way there. They took Wilbur’s dog with them. A ferocious-looking beast, that dog, until I quieted it.”
New, fanciful thoughts were passing through Mildred’s mind. She remembered how Walter Pearson had gone into the grove - later to be declared missing. The girl shuddered as she thought of the proximity of those trees, ready to ensnare all venturers. She wondered if anything could have happened to either Galbraith Chittenden or his
