The Shadow - 235 - Murder Mansion by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1941-11-30T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XI

SHADOW MEETS SHADOW

CRANSTON’S predictions had a way of coming true; but this time, he had called the turn almost to the dot. Already, Gail Trent was on the verge of a meeting with Clive Walden.

In her room, Gail was plucking a sheet of crumpled paper from the wastebasket: the note that Clive had left the evening before. She wanted to read it again to learn if there could be a deeper meaning in the simple message. But she had scarcely begun to open the paper when she heard the creak of footsteps from the hallway.

A dresser drawer was half open. Quickly, Gail dropped the wadded paper into it. Turning about, she closed the drawer behind her and faced the door defiantly.

Gail’s eyes were blazing in the mild light of the room. She thought the approaching person was Margo, whose actions at times today had impressed Gail as a trifle snoopy. Friends though they were, Gail intended to tell off Margo, quite properly.

Then the girl’s eyes lost their blaze and were open wide. The figure that paused upon the threshold was cloaked entirely in black. His hat was drawn deep

upon his forehead and he kept it tilted forward to avoid the light. Gail couldn’t see his face, but she gave a glad cry.

At that moment, curiously, Gail was thinking of The Shadow as a separate identity. Though Cranston’s theories were quite correct, Gail’s mind had drifted more and more to the first time she had seen The Shadow, when he had handled a masked foeman so impressively at the door.

She’d given him the benefit on his own merits, in the case of Browland’s death, even though she supposed that he might be Clive.

Gail’s happy tone brought a swish from the doorway. With it came the man in black. Sweeping away his slouch hat, he took the girl in his arms, and she was looking up into Clive’s face.

Flooded with emotion, Gail was nearly weeping at the happiness of this reunion. Then, Clive’s voice was whispering close to her ear.

“What a fool I was to think you’d mistrust me, Gail! I should have known that you’d meet me at the summerhouse if you possibly could.”

“I was going there this evening, Clive,” Gail responded. “I had to wait until it was dark enough.”

“I was waiting for darkness, too. Fortunately, this house becomes gloomy early. I’ve been hiding in the attic.”

“The attic?” Gail brushed the mist from her eyes. “Why, they searched there, Clive!”

“Not the old part, where you have to crawl down to the lower level. I even

had trouble finding it. They didn’t find it at all.”

Clive paused; when he spoke again, his own voice choked:

“Uncle Tobias? Is… is he dead?”

Gail gave a slow nod.

“If I only could have saved him,” declared Clive ruefully. “He was just stepping down when I came around the corner. I was close; I heard him stumble.

When I grabbed for him, he was already tumbling, cane and all. I heard you scream.” Clive paused and met Gail’s eyes.

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