The Shadow - 37 - The Grove of Doom by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1933-09-15T21:57:31+00:00

“That may be significant,” declared Ware thoughtfully.

“I wanted to come here through the grove,” asserted Galbraith suddenly. “But Beowulf - the dog here -

refused to budge. That is why we came around the shore. I am beginning to think it possible that something might have happened to Wilbur among those trees.”

“A foolish notion, father,” interposed Zachary.

“Look” - Galbraith Chittenden pulled the dog over to the woods. Beowulf began to whine and draw back - “you see how the dog is acting, Mr. Ware?”

Ware nodded.

“I would like to go back through the woods now,” said Galbraith. “It is the shortest way home. I intend to leave immediately, and it would satisfy my worries to go that way.”

“There’s no good in our searching the grove, father,” declared Zachary. “Harvey called Wilbur; if Harvey is on the level, let him make some efforts to find Wilbur. Leave that with Mr. Ware. It’s a fair test. He can tell Harvey that by looking for Wilbur and coming up to see us afterward, you will forget this quarrel.

Otherwise, you will talk with the lawyer who is calling you tomorrow, and Harvey will be cut off, as you threatened.”

“I don’t think Harvey would look for Wilbur or come up to see you folks,” observed Ware doubtfully.

That remark pleased Zachary. It was what he had hoped. The clash on the lawn meant Harvey’s quick elimination from the Chittenden family. Zachary had tried to propose terms that would prevent a reconciliation. He had apparently succeeded.

“Very well,” said Galbraith testily, “you may propose those terms to Harvey, Mr. Ware. Until tomorrow night. That is the limit for him to make amends.”

Ware shrugged his shoulders.

“You can count the break as permanent, then,” he said. “It will be up to you to trace your son Wilbur; I can say positively that you will hear no more from Harvey. I know him well enough for that.”

Quite viciously, Galbraith Chittenden dragged Beowulf toward the grove, which was only a few feet from where the men were standing. The dog protested with angry snarls.

“I’m going through this woods,” said Galbraith, in a determined tone. “I’m going to assure myself that Wilbur is not there. Come, Zachary, help me.”

“We can’t manage it,” protested the son. “Beowulf won’t go with us. How will we get him back? Of course, I can take him around, if you will go through alone.”

“I’m not going through alone,” growled Galbraith obstinately. “Come, Zachary - you wanted me to visit here. You were worried about Wilbur. We’re going through with the dog.”

Reluctantly, Zachary assisted with the leash. Beowulf broke away and dashed madly about the lawn.

Up on the veranda of the clubhouse, Lamont Cranston, who had arisen, now resumed his seat.

Craig Ware captured the wild dog’s leash. Beowulf snuggled his nose in the showman’s hands. Ware stroked the animal soothingly.

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