Part 8 (1/2)

The Shadow was through. Otherwise, he would have come to Fairfax to invadeBryland's mansion, in the darkness of last night. That was the way Bryland summed it. He was unacquainted with The Shadow's complete methods of strategy.

It never occurred to Bryland that The Shadow would find it preferable to let his enemies think him dead. There were reasons, however, why The Shadow had actually chosen to do so.

Most important of The Shadow's objectives was the recovery of the National Emergency Code. The Shadow knew that Bryland would have to inform Creelon where the NEC was hidden. When that news came, The Shadow would be ready to step back to life.

Rolling along at thirty miles an hour, Bryland looked into his mirror and noted an old truck following him. He thought nothing of it. Trucks were often on the road to Was.h.i.+ngton. But if Bryland had seen the driver of that truck, he might have suspected something.

Leaning over the wheel of the following vehicle was a hawk-faced driver, whose eyes were singularly like The Shadow's. Overalls and cap made him look like some farmer, driving up to Was.h.i.+ngton; but the driver was The Shadow, in person.

He had gone to Fairfax, but merely to watch the mansion, not to enter it.

When Bryland had appeared, long after daylight, The Shadow had gone to the road, to enter this concealed truck and await the ex-major.

When he reached Was.h.i.+ngton, Bryland threaded his way to a large government building and parked his car outside an obscure door. Hardly had he entered, before a taxicab pulled up. From it stepped The Shadow. He had left his truck; and the overalls were with it.

The Shadow was wearing the street clothes that had been beneath the overalls. During the short cab ride, he had altered the contour of his face.

Its hawkish look was gone. Bryland would not take that countenance for Cranston's; nor would be suspect that the eyes - purposely listless were The Shadow's.

The building that Bryland entered housed special offices of the navy department. The Shadow followed in through a corridor; saw offices where tired-faced clerks were at work. Bryland was starting up a pair of stairs. The Shadow took them later.

At the top, he saw an office that bore the name of Commander Howard Ronaldson. Bryland had gone in there.

The Shadow entered. He found a petty officer seated at a desk in a large anteroom. Without asking the visitor's name, the navy man simply announced: ”Commander Ronaldson is out. He may be back soon; but you will have to wait a while to see him. There is a caller waiting in his office.”

The Shadow knew that the caller must be Bryland; so he decided to wait.

He sat down in a corner; eyed the doorway of Ronaldson's inner office.

SOON, the commander returned. He walked directly through to his office.

As he opened the door, he saw Bryland. The Shadow heard his greeting: ”h.e.l.lo, major! Nothing new for you. By George! It seems as though every day that I come to my office, I find you waiting here patiently. Sorry, but there has been no report on the radio tests.”

Bryland was standing just inside the door of the commander's big private office. The Shadow saw him shrug his shoulders; then inquire: ”What makes them delay so much down at Quantico?”

”We're all too busy with routine matters,” returned the commander. ”We'vebeen plagued by all sorts of complications lately. You know how it is, Bryland; everything that other departments are through with, they s.h.i.+p on me. This is the first week I've been able to take evenings off. They're still doing night work downstairs. Give me about ten days more, major, and I'll send an official order to resume the tests.”

”No hurry, commander,” smiled Bryland. ”I may be taking a trip soon. It can wait until I come back.”

”I'm sorry that you made a useless trip here -”

”I was driving to Was.h.i.+ngton anyway. To see Senator Releston. I simply stopped here on my way.”

Bryland left. Ronaldson saw The Shadow. Like the petty officer, the commander made no inquiry as to the visitor's name, although The Shadow was ready with an answer. Instead, Ronaldson merely remarked, courteously but briskly: ”I am very busy. I can spare time for important matters. But if your business is of a minor sort, it would be better to see me next week. Provided it can wait.”

”It can,” replied The Shadow, in a dry tone. ”I shall see you later, commander.”

As proof that he was busy, Ronaldson went directly to his desk, which The Shadow could see stacked high with papers. Off beyond, The Shadow could see a farther door, half opened. It was marked ”File Room” and inside were file cabinets lined so close that there were only narrow pa.s.sages between them.

The tops of the cabinets were stacked with huge heaps of papers. There would be plenty of work in that file room when helpers could be spared from downstairs. The Shadow could excuse Ronaldson's brusqueness.

LEAVING the navy department, The Shadow made no effort to regain Bryland's trail. He was confident that the crook would go to Releston's, as he had said.

The trail could be picked up later, outside of Releston's hotel.

The Shadow was correct in that a.s.sumption. Soon after his departure from Ronaldson's office, Bryland was announced at the senator's. Ushered into the room that the senator used as office, Bryland found Releston and a stocky man awaiting him. The senator introduced Vic Marquette.

”Glad to meet you, Bryland,” announced Marquette. ”I owe you an apology.”

”On account of your search at my home?” chuckled Bryland. ”Don't mention it. I rather expected it.”

”Just why?”

”Because I supposed that the secret service would be playing every long-shot chance in an effort to find the NEC. I have an apartment here in Was.h.i.+ngton, as well as my home in Virginia. You are welcome to search the apartment also.”

”We searched it last night -”

Bryland laughed as though he enjoyed the news. He was watching Vic, though, to see if the operative suspected that he had been back at the apartment.

Apparently, Vic had not. However, he made other comment.

”We thought we had a trail,” he told Bryland. ”That's why we made the search. I happened to see you at the Apollo Club last night, major.”

”Ah!” exclaimed Bryland. ”You witnessed my quarrel with Miss Leeth. But why did that cause you to suspect me?”

”I saw you talking to Nina Valencita.”

Bryland winced; started to say something, then shook his head.

”I can't give you the details of that conversation,” he told Marquette.

”But I can a.s.sure you that it was entirely a private matter.” ”I learned that,” rejoined Marquette. ”I found the senorita's letters at your apartment.”

”I hope that you left them there,” expressed Bryland, anxiously. ”I promised Senorita Valencita that I would return them.”

”They are there,” a.s.sured Marquette. ”They don't come under the jurisdiction of our department.”

Bryland smiled sheepishly. Casually, he put his hand in his pocket and brought out the message that Nina had sent him the night before. He showed it to Marquette; then tore it up and tossed the pieces in a wastebasket.

”I expect to see the senorita to-night,” he remarked. ”There is a ball at one of the emba.s.sies. I have forgotten just which one; and she mentioned that she will be there. I shall return her letters then.”

BRYLAND glanced at an appointment book, as if to recall the name of the emba.s.sy. He chatted a while with Releston and Marquette, remarking that he intended to make a trip, but mentioning no destination. Quite satisfied with the way that he had conducted himself, Bryland left the senator's residence.

The crook did not know that he was followed after he went from the Hotel Barlingham. Bryland spent most of the afternoon at the Army and Navy Club; while there, he made a brief telephone call to Martha Leeth.

At the club, Bryland saw a stranger - a stoop-shouldered man whom he took for a retired officer. He did not identify him with the chance caller whom he had noticed in Commander Ronaldson's office. The Shadow had made another change in make-up.