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The Shadow - Death Turrets Part 6

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"Somebody could have poked that through," said the sheriff, to Allard.

"Then fished for it, and used it to unlock the door. Leaving it on the floor was a smart stunt. Unless-"

Cravlen snapped his fingers; gestured for Allard to follow him. At a jog, the sheriff hurried along the front corridor and reached a room on the other side of the house. He tried the door; found it locked. Cravlen pounded; there was no response.

"Lenley's room," he told Allard. "Maybe he did the sneak. He may have gone out the window, like old Miss Merrith thought. If he did, he's lucky if he's back here yet."

Cravlen pounded harder. This time, there was a stir. A sleepy voice asked what was the trouble. The sheriff didn't wait to explain by words. He had the key to the door. He unlocked it and shouldered through.Lenley was seated, half dressed, upon the edge of his bed. He rubbed his eyes when the sheriff turned on a lamp. Blinking, the bearded man looked at Cravlen and Allard.



"Why aren't you in bed?" quizzed Cravlen. "And what's the window doing, half up?"

"You didn't order me to bed," retorted Lenley. "I kept my clothes on because I felt uneasy. As for the window, you didn't say to keep it shut. The rain had stopped; I wanted fresh air."

Cravlen peered from the window. The moonlight showed heavy vines along the wall. Turning about, the sheriff demanded abruptly if Lenley had gone out by that window. The inventor shook his head.

"You wouldn't say so, if you had," decided Cravlen, sourly. "Funny business, though, you sleeping through a lot of gunfire that woke up George Brendaw."

Lenley opened his eyes as if astonished.

"What gunfire?"

"Skip it," returned Cravlen. "You're like Brendaw. Either you don't know anything, or you're too smart to talk. Come along, while we dig up t.i.tus."

THE servant's room was at the remote end of the hall. They found t.i.tus awake, and in a state of mild alarm. He said that he had heard the shots, but that was probably because he had not gone to sleep.

t.i.tus had his window shut, and there were no vines outside it. Cravlen rummaged about the room, looking for keys, but found none.

Meanwhile, Lenley was asking what the trouble was all about. Cravlen did not answer until they started a procession toward Lucille's room. On the way, he gave Lenley a brief summary.

"Somebody got into Miss Lucille Merrith's room," said the sheriff.

"Either by the door or the window. He fired some shots, and maybe he went out by the window. Miss Merrith is pretty shaky, but her aunt says she saw the fellow go. We couldn't locate him outside, though."

It was plain that Cravlen was somewhat puzzled. When they reached Lucille's room, he asked the girl some more questions. She answered vaguely.

Lucille could remember those choking hands; she thought she had seen some one at the window. There had been a struggle in the darkness, she thought, but it all seemed hazy.

The sheriff had been blunt with George and Lenley, but he was both courteous and patient when he talked to Lucille. George asked Lucille if she wanted some brandy. When the girl shook her head, the sheriff suggested coffee.

"That's nearer it," smiled Lucille. "What I would like is a cup of tea.

I always drink tea instead of coffee."

The sheriff sent t.i.tus downstairs to prepare a cup of tea. As soon as the servant had gone, George spoke sarcastically.

"At least, you've taken the clamps off one of us," he said to the sheriff. "t.i.tus, it seems, is allowed to go places unwatched. May I ask why Lenley and I are denied the privilege?"

"Because t.i.tus was boxed where he couldn't get out," declared Cravlen.

"I might as well put it straight, Brendaw. Suspicion lies between you and Lenley!"

George scowled. Cravlen turned to witness Lenley's reaction. The inventor let his bearded lips part in a gleaming smile.

"From the report you gave me, sheriff," said Lenley, "it seems that there was a mysterious invader who escaped by the window. Since that unknown party entered with intent to strangle Miss Merrith, we might presume that he was the murderer who struck twice tonight."

"That makes sense," put in George. "Let me add my comment, sheriff. I consider that you are overstepping your authority by holding Lenley and myself prisoners."

The sheriff chewed his lips. He was in a dilemma and he knew it. Georgepressed the cause further.

"Take your pick," he declared. "Lenley or myself. Arrest one of us for murder. Then we can send for a lawyer."

THE sheriff stroked his chin. He didn't relish the thought of giving up his authority until he had gone more into the case. He finally decided upon a compromise, just when t.i.tus arrived with Lucille's tea.

"I'll be fair in this matter," decided Cravlen, gruffly. "Suppose I give you two the freedom of the house. Will you agree to stay in it?"

"Yes." George nodded. "I'm willing, if I'm regarded as a witness, rather than a suspect." He turned to Lenley. "How about it, Bob?"

"I'm agreeable," said Lenley.

"All right," declared Cravlen. "There is one other person, however, who has a say in the matter."

He turned to Lucille. The girl finished her tea and waited for the sheriff's question.

"Miss Merrith," said Cravlen, seriously, "a thrust was made against you.

Therefore, you are the person who must be protected. I guarantee that you will be under the constant protection of myself or Mr. Allard. Is that satisfactory?"

Lucille was doubtful. She looked from the sheriff to Allard. Keen eyes met hers. The girl caught Allard's slight nod. That was sufficient. Lucille nodded to the sheriff. Cravlen turned to George and Lenley.

"May I suggest," said the sheriff, "that you gentlemen return to your rooms. This is a request, not an order. You are at liberty to leave the rooms whenever you choose."

Lenley turned promptly and went out into the hall. George hesitated, looking at Lucille. The girl smiled; motioned for him to go. George followed Lenley.

t.i.tus and the deputies departed. The last to leave were Cravlen and Allard. The sheriff left Lucille's door ajar. In the hallway, he spoke to Allard in an undertone.

"You keep watch," said the sheriff. "I'll go downstairs and complete my report, with these new details. When you get tired, send the deputy down to tell me. I'll take over."

In the darkness of her room, Lucille could again hear the footsteps of the patrolling deputy when he resumed his routine duty.

Stealing softly across the room, the girl peered through the partly opened door. In the lighted hallway, she saw Kent Allard seated in a chair, with folded arms.

His gaze turned toward the door, as if his ears had caught the almost noiseless tread of Lucille's thin slippers. The girl went back to bed.

Slipping her dressing gown from her shoulders, she nestled her head deep in the pillows.

The whisper of the wind, the soft glow of the moonlight-both had taken on a lulling harmony. But Lucille knew that they were not responsible for the security that she felt. It was Allard's presence that made the girl know she was safe.

IN the hallway, The Shadow maintained the vigil that he had undertaken as Kent Allard. He remained silent, motionless, awaiting the dawn. To The Shadow, the coming day would bring new opportunity.

The Shadow knew why Sheriff Cravlen wanted to keep matters as they were.

A murderer's work had not yet finished. Whoever the killer might be, that person would seek new opportunity to commit covered crime.

Meanwhile, the sheriff held the hope that past clues might point definitely to either George Brendaw or Robert Lenley. When the right time came, Cravlen would be able to accuse openly one or the other of murder.

Much though he had desired that opportunity, Cravlen had been forced to gain Lucille's consent to the risk that the girl faced. Cravlen had hoped forsuch consent; Allard had a.s.sured it for the sheriff.

That fact told that The Shadow, like Cravlen, was counting upon certain clues to serve him. Circ.u.mstances of death were so strange at Five Towers that Sheriff Cravlen could not be depended upon to name the murderer correctly.

Should there be an error in the sheriff's findings, The Shadow would be present to rectify it.

The Shadow had met the murderer in the darkness of Lucille's room. In the brief struggle, he had gained no opportunity to view his heavy-gloved a.s.sailant. Nevertheless, The Shadow was confident that his case would be completed, before death again could strike at Five Towers.

In that expectation, The Shadow discounted a minor factor that was to prove a huge one. Though The Shadow intended to prevent it, murder was due again within these very walls.

Most curious of all, when that murder would come, The Shadow was to be the one person who would most welcome it!

CHAPTER X.

OUTSIDE THE WALLS.

WHEN morning came, Kent Allard was still at his post. Amos Cravlen had finished his work in the trophy room and had gone into the living room to doze. Deputies had changed s.h.i.+fts, but none had awakened the sheriff. Allard had not called for him.

It was the loud ring of the front doorbell that awoke Cravlen. The sheriff blinked when he saw that it was daylight. He answered the door to find the coroner, accompanied by a new crew of deputies.

Cravlen put the new men in charge. He brought three of them upstairs with him, and there found Allard awaiting, apparently not at all tired by his all-night watch. The sheriff introduced the coroner to Allard, who went with them when they removed the body of Roderick Talroy.

Downstairs, the sheriff led the way to the trophy room. The remains of Rufus Fant were taken away. The coroner collected the evidence and took along a copy of Cravlen's full report.

Telegrams, like George's revolver, were boxed in with the portable typewriter. One of the coroner's a.s.sistants carried the b.l.o.o.d.y mace.

t.i.tus was in the kitchen, making breakfast. Lucille and her aunt arrived downstairs to find the sheriff and Allard at the table. Soon, George and Lenley joined them. All during breakfast, a pair of deputies hovered just inside the dining room.

Cravlen had instructed them to keep constant guard over Lucille and her aunt.

The first to finish breakfast, Allard and Cravlen walked out into the hall. There, Allard remembered something.

"I must make a long-distance call," he said. "My broker expects instructions. Will it be all right to telephone from here?'

"Sure," replied Cravlen, "unless you want to come down to my office."

"I've been up all night, sheriff. It is time I had some sleep. So I prefer to stay here."

Allard made the call, while Cravlen sat near by. The sheriff heard references to certain stocks and their prices; that was all. He would have been amazed had he known all that the call told. Cravlen was to run into the results later, still without knowing that Allard had produced them.

The conversation contained coded statements, summoning a newspaper reporter named Clyde Burke-secretly, an agent of The Shadow-to the town of Northridge, which was where the sheriff was going. Northridge was the county seat, and lay a few miles west of the Sunnyside railroad station. Northridge was the "town" to which every one referred.

WHEN Allard's call was finished, the sheriff motioned him to a sidedoor. They stepped out beside the wall of the huge house; there, Cravlen pointed to a second-floor window.

"Lenley's room," remarked Cravlen. "He could have climbed up there, Allard. Let's pace it around the house."

They took the walk and arrived beneath the windows of Lucille's bedroom.

The distance was considerable, but that did not worry Cravlen. The sheriff remembered that it had been some time before they had gone to waken Lenley.

Cravlen stared across the s.p.a.ce to the hen house. He paced that distance, with Allard close beside him. The sheriff looked at the bullet-battered corner of the old chicken roost. He shook his head.

"My opinion," said Cravlen, "is that n.o.body could have come over this way. What do you think, Allard?"

Allard shrugged his shoulders. For the first time, he was showing signs of weariness from his night's watch. Cravlen saw him repress a yawn.

"You are probably right, sheriff," decided Allard. "I would say that Lenley did not come over this direction."

"You think it was Lenley then?" quizzed Cravlen. "Or do you mean it might not have been Lenley at all? In other words, was it Brendaw?"

Allard considered the possibilities. Despite his sleepiness, he seemed to be visualizing the two men. His keenness, though, was gone. His eyes were listless when he turned them toward the sheriff.

"George Brendaw wouldn't have needed to come outside," declared Cravlen.

"What's more, he had a motive to commit those murders. That is, if you could call revenge a motive, but it's a tough one to prove."

A nod from Allard. It was a weary one.

"But that doesn't leave Lenley out," added the sheriff. "He acts like he's on the up and up, but there may be something phony about that invention of his. It's still a fifty-fifty proposition, between Brendaw and Lenley."

Cravlen's forehead was wrinkled in quizzical fas.h.i.+on, as he hopefully waited for Allard to supply an answer. With a tired smile, Allard reached into his vest pocket and brought out a gold coin made in the form of a good-luck piece.

"Heads for Brendaw," he remarked, "tails for Lenley. That's about the way it stands, sheriff."

"You're right," agreed Cravlen, grimly. "Go ahead; toss it. Maybe it will give us a starting guess."

Allard's thumb flipped the coin. It flashed on a high arc in the sunlight; struck the corner of the hen-house roof and bounded somewhere on the ground. The sheriff began to look for it. Allard stopped him.

"I can find it," he said. "You have too much to do, sheriff, to be wasting time here. All I am going to do to-day is sleep."

"All right," agreed Cravlen. "See you later, Allard. You can tell me then which way the coin fell. Only I hope, by that time, that I'll have the real answer."

WHEN Cravlen drove away from the front drive, he looked back to see Allard still looking for the coin. As he headed the car toward the gates, the sheriff muttered, half aloud: "Heads or tails-Brendaw or Lenley. I wonder which it's going to be."

Had Sheriff Cravlen waited about twenty minutes longer, he would have had his answer. That length of time had pa.s.sed before Allard suddenly arose from beside the corner of the hen house, to see the gold coin glinting from a spot just beyond.

Even the coin had evaded an answer to the question. It had rolled between two boards that extended from the base of the hen house, and it was lying there, on edge.

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