Part 13 (1/2)

Smiling at the ease with which he had conquered obstacles, Berlett dropped boldly into Markin's house.

He had left the trapdoor overlapping. Moving softly along a thick carpet, he discovered a stout table in the corner. Using this piece of furniture, he mounted to close the trap. Putting the table back in the corner, he stole to the stairs.

When he reached the gloomy first-floor hall, Berlett spied the yawning entrance to the living room.

Darkness lured the intruder. Berlett moved into the living room. He spied the thick dark ma.s.s of draperies.

Again choosing in The Shadow's fas.h.i.+on, Berlett moved to the curtains and found a hiding place upon the window ledge.

Minutes ticked by. Something swished in the outer hall. Berlett did not hear the sound, nor did he see the form that glided in from the hall. The lawyer did not know that another intruder had arrived. The Shadow, following the very route that Berlett had picked, was in Kelwood Markin's living room.

THE SHADOW was stealthy, even in the darkness. He seemed in no haste to gain his usual hiding place.

Hence he was not far inside the door when a sudden dingle announced a visitor to the house. Swerving silently, The Shadow headed for the door of Markin's bedroom. His action was well chosen.

Hardly had The Shadow gained this temporary hiding place before Howland arrived and turned on the living-room lights. The secretary looked about in methodical fas.h.i.+on, then continued to the front door.

The Shadow, quartered in the gloom of Markin's temporary bedroom, decided to remain.

He picked a hiding place behind a huge chair that was close to a fire place. The chair was halfway on the hearth; evidently the gas-log in the fire place was seldom used by Kelwood Markin.

George Tharxell entered the living room with Howland. The junior partner took a chair; Howland left and went back into the study. Tharxell, awaiting the arrival of Lester Dorrington, sat alone, totally unconscious of the fact that two observers were close at hand.

OTHERS were awaiting the arrival of Dorrington. In a parked car across the street from the old house, Ralph Weston and Kelwood Markin were on the alert. In addition, four men from headquarters were posted at vantage spots. Five minutes pa.s.sed. A cab rolled along the street. It stopped in front of Markin's. A man alighted and went up the steps. It was Dorrington, alone.

”Wait,” whispered Markin, nervously, as he and the commissioner saw Howland admit the visitor.

Another tense five minutes. Markin opened the door of the parked car. He stepped to the sidewalk.

Weston followed. Both knew that the coast was clear. Dorrington had brought no aids. Together, Weston and Markin crossed to the house. The old lawyer rang his own door bell.

Howland answered and motioned Weston toward the rear. The commissioner tiptoed past the closed door of the living room. Markin and Howland followed slowly, talking as they came. With Weston safely past, Markin opened the door and stepped into the living room. He was greeted by Lester Dorrington.

”Ah!” exclaimed Markin. ”I am the one who is late. My apologies, sir. I was out for a short walk. How long have you been waiting, Tharxell?”

”About five or ten minutes before Mr. Dorrington arrived,” replied Tharxell. ”I can go, sir. If you wish, I can return later.”

”No need, Tharxell. Here”-Markin drew an envelope from his pocket - ”I have gone over these papers in regard to the Stevenson claim. I can make no criticism of your work, Tharxell, although I have added a few marginal comments. You intend to see Stevenson to-night?”

”I can see him if necessary.”

”Do so. Call me afterward. That is, if you finish the business before ten o'clock. Not after ten, Tharxell. I shall be sleeping soundly by that time.”

Tharxell departed. Markin took his position behind the table and looked toward Dorrington. The visiting lawyer made a comment.

”You are still engaged in practice, I take it,” remarked Dorrington, ”even though you do not go to your office.”

”My name is still on the door,” returned Markin. ”Tharxell, however, is in full charge. I have been actually retired for a full year.”

”I see,” nodded Dorrington. ”Then you want to see me regarding an old matter. One of long standing, I suppose.”

”Yes,” declared Markin. ”It concerns the affairs of Rufus Gilwood, deceased. You, I understand, handled his estate.”

”I did,” said Dorrington.

”I have something here that will interest you.” Markin opened a table drawer. He searched without result.

”Hmm. What did I do with it? Wait here, please. I must go to my study. I believe I left it there.”

MARKIN went to the door and opened it. He entered the hall and closed the door behind him. He continued to the rear and opened the door of the study. He placed his finger to his lips as he looked toward the three men who were seated there.

”The key,” whispered Markin. ”The key of the safe deposit box. Where is it?”

”I left it at headquarters,” returned Cardona, in a low tone. ”Do you have one of the others?”

”No.”

”Here is a key”-the interjection came from Howland. ”It is one of your own, sir. Will it do?”

Markin nodded as he clutched the key. Howland had brought the object from a desk drawer. Pacing back to the living room, Markin entered and closed the door. Dorrington was puffing a cigar.

”This is it.” Markin went behind the table and let the key clatter as he spoke. ”This, Mr. Dorrington, was given to me by Rufus Gilwood.”

”How long before his death?” inquired Dorrington, curiously.

”A year or more,” recalled the old attorney. ”I received it in confidence. Gilwood told me that he might return for it. If he did not, I was to open the safe deposit box and distribute the funds that I found there.

They were to go to people named.”

”Well?”

”Gilwood never returned to my office. I opened the box after his death.”

”What did you find there?”

”Nothing.”

Dorrington puffed calmly at his cigar. He made no comment. It was Markin who was forced to speak.

”I knew that you were the attorney in charge of Gilwood's estate,” a.s.serted the old lawyer. ”But I hesitated to tell you of the matter. The box was empty. What could I do about it?”

”Old Gilwood was an eccentric sort,” mused Dorrington. ”That may have been his idea of a joke.”

”He paid me a thousand dollars as a retainer,” returned Markin.

”That makes it different,” declared Dorrington. ”It placed you under obligation. Under the circ.u.mstances, you should have come to me at once. Why did you not do so immediately after Gilwood's death?”