Cedar Cove knew it. But outsiders had no chance of getting by the guards; and the system
of pairing workers made it impossible for a traitor—if one were in camp - to conduct a
secret search.
To-morrow, the commander intended to fly to Washington, accompanied by Hasker, the
mechanic who had charge of Dadren's amphibian plane. Harry had reported that fact to The
Shadow. He had added that nothing of a suspicious nature surrounded the proposed flight.
So to-night—the last night at Cedar Cove—Harry Vincent felt sure that any danger period
had been passed.
MIDNIGHT had arrived. Harry had been waiting for the hour. If The Shadow had new orders,
they were due. Harry rose from his chair; while others chatted he strolled to the radio and
turned the knob. He switched from the music of a Richmond station just in time for the
announcement of a program from WNX, New York.
The radio announcer was beginning a discourse on the merits of heavy winter overcoats
manufactured by a New York concern. His voice came over the air; and it carried an
emphasis on certain words:
'To prevent winter colds, follow the plain advice that will save many a trip to the doctor. Read
our free booklet 'When North Winds Blow.' Join with those who are wise. Make plans to be
healthy this winter -'
The announcer droned on. Harry heard no further words that were stressed. He knew that
the message had been given. Buried in the announcement was the emphasized order from
The Shadow:
'Prevent plane trip North with plans.'
In the past, Harry had received many such messages from The Shadow. Somehow, his
mysterious chief had arranged a method of putting hidden sentences into the regular station
announcements. But on this occasion, Harry was startled by a difference.
At the end of the announcement, the speaker made a passing statement before the music
began. His words were:
'This program is an electrical transcription -'
A recorded program! The cleverness of the idea was impressive. This announcement must
have been spoken a few weeks ago, implanted upon a studio record that had been laid
aside until required. The Shadow had prepared it for an emergency.
Thus Harry realized that The Shadow might be far from New York. There had been no need
for him to visit Station WNX and arrange for a planted announcement. With a record ready,
it had simply been a case of telephoning instructions to use it.
Although he did not know the details, Harry had struck upon the exact truth. Before leaving
New York to rescue Professor Whitburn, The Shadow had ordered Burbank to call the
studio and state that Program R344 WC was to be used to-night. That had all been planned
beforehand.
Thus The Shadow, imprisoned with Professor Whitburn, had assured the old inventor that all
would be well at Cedar Cove. For unless The Shadow returned to New York and canceled
his original instructions, the emergency order was sure to be received by Harry Vincent.
BACK in his chair near the fireplace, Harry was thinking quickly. He knew that a task lay
before him. To try to warn Commander Dadren would be a false step. As confidential
secretary, Harry might be able to give advice, provided that danger seemed present at
Cedar Cove. But so far, there had been no indication of an existing menace.
Harry smiled. Again, he was benefiting by The Shadow's forethought. He had received
instructions covering just such an emergency as this one. It was Harry's appointed duty to
create the thought of danger by action of his own.
Of all those stationed at Cedar Cove, Harry was the only one not paired with a companion.
He had arrived long after the others. His recommendation from Whitburn and his service as
Dadren's secretary had separated him from the others. In conformity with Dadren's system,
however, Harry was supposed to keep with the company except when performing actual
duty.
Therein lay Harry's opportunity. After a few minutes of planning, The Shadow's agent arose
and approached Wilkins, who rated the highest of those in the main hall. Harry remarked
that he had work to do for Commander Dadren.
'I have to type some letters for the skipper,' he told Wilkins. 'I'll use the machine in my room.
Let me know when the skipper comes in.'
Wilkins nodded. Harry turned and entered a little room that opened from the hall. He turned
on the light and closed the door behind him. This room served as both bedroom and office,
so far as Harry's own work was concerned. A cot stood in one corner; opposite it was a
table with a typewriter.
Reaching beneath the table, Harry brought out what appeared to be the case of a portable
typewriter. He unlocked it and opened the top. Inside was a machine that bore a
resemblance to a usual portable. With it was a coil of insulated wire, with a plug on the loose
end.
Harry connected the cord with a wall socket. He was about to press a lever when he
remembered something. Seating himself at the table, he opened a drawer and brought out
a few letters that he had already typed. He laid them beside the real typewriter; then inserted
a blank sheet of paper and typed a letter halfway through.
That done, Harry stepped from the desk and pressed the lever on the portable machine.
There was a slight whirr, then the false typewriter began to click. Its action was irregular; at
the end of a series of clicks a little bell rang, and the carriage slid back to begin again.
Harry had received this device from The Shadow. It was serving an excellent purpose. Out in
the big hall, the men could hear the pounding of the keys, the sliding of the carriage. They
would swear, later, that they had heard Harry Vincent typing in his room.
WHILE the mechanism clicked, Harry stole toward the door and pressed the light switch.
With the room in darkness, he went to the window and softly opened it.
The window was barred with a crisscross wire grating; but Harry had previously loosened
the frame. He pushed the barrier outward, jamming it so that it hung as if hinged to one side
of the window. Harry dropped into the inner court.
He had long since planned this emergency trip. It required stealth, for too much noise might
attract the attention of men patrolling the halls about the block-shaped building. Crossing the
court, Harry reached the window of the laboratory.
Here were bars like those on the windows of his own room. Instead of attacking the frame,
Harry produced a pair of small but powerful wire clippers. Using both hands to gain more
pressure, The Shadow's agent began to clip the crisscross wires, just within the frame.
The task needed endurance. Each wire seemed tougher than the one before. But Harry had
confidence that he could accomplish the job with speed. He succeeded. Less than five
minutes after the departure from his room, he had the bottom and lower sides cut loose.
Harry pried the wires upward. As he had anticipated, the window, itself, was unlocked. With
a grating covering it, Commander Dadren seldom locked the sash. Harry opened the
window and entered the laboratory.
He needed no flashlight for the work that lay ahead. About the lab were tables. The drawers
contained papers—formulas, typewritten instructions— that were of little consequence. An
intruder, however, might have found them worthy of inspection. Opening the various drawers,
Harry removed the papers and scattered them about.
