The Shadow - 155 - Death Jewels by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1938-08-21T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XI

CHOICE OF DEATH

CONNECTICUT headlands lay black beneath the clouded night sky. Most observers could not have discerned where woodland blended with the heavens, but

The Shadow managed to spy the dividing line. Dim moonlight, trickling through clouds directly overhead, furnished the faint illumination that The Shadow required.

Once traced, that shore line still remained obscure. The Shadow’s observation was almost uncanny, the way he traced the contours. His boat was well out in the Sound, its motor throttled down to make its speed a mere crawl.

Nevertheless, The Shadow was picking an unerring course.

He was saving time in his approach. He was entering the little cove, instead of the large one, risking the difficult navigation that Reggie had avoided. All the while his advance was sufficiently silent to remain unnoticed by any one ashore.

The speedboat nosed through a tricky channel. The motor was turned off; only the swash of lapping water could be heard. Light wind was blowing toward this shore. The boat was making headway from that slight impetus. Amidships, The Shadow was using an oar as a pole, while he managed the wheel with his other hand.

The boat scraped rock. A shove of the oar, a twist of the wheel, and the craft eased past a shoal on the other side. Swinging to starboard, The Shadow shoved the oar to half its length. The blade found a rock base. A last push urged the boat into thick blackness that marked the overhanging trees.

Three minutes later The Shadow was ashore, his boat tied to a rickety dock. He had landed on the point, within a hundred yards of the old, forgotten house. His tiny flashlight was probing the ground to find a path. One showed beneath the glow.

Wind waved the treetops. Its whisper was more audible than the slight sounds The Shadow made. Ahead, he saw dim sky. It represented a clearing. The Shadow doused the flashlight. Creeping onward, he reached the driveway. The bulk of the old house was visible.

The Shadow skirted the building. He guided himself by looking upward, to see the outline of the roof. All the while, he worked along the blackened ground through sense of touch alone. Close to the house, he could make out the shapes of windows. He circled the far side, the back. Coming along the near side, The Shadow stopped.

Two windows differed from the others. They were shuttered. They represented the logical room in which crooks would keep a prisoner. There was no light trickling through; but that did not denote an empty room. Valencia might be asleep.

There were vague whispers somewhere; they had a mumble that sounded like men in conference. Padded footfalls came toward The Shadow, they were from the rear of the building; he moved toward the front.

Crouched beside the porch, he heard a patroller pass. This house was under

watch, and guarding men evidently had their headquarters at the back.

While he waited, The Shadow realized an advantage that had become his.

UNQUESTIONABLY, this house could be approached by land as well as water.

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