Dixie heard Madam Stephan's voice, quiet but ringing with suppressed excitement.
"Grant has gone to raid the dynamite depot in the lighthouse."
"Yes?" Von Lertz's interest was instant. "And the trap?"
"Set and ready to spring."
A shiver of dread passed through Dixie Mason. What was this trap they spoke of? Grant was in danger! The man whom Dixie could not forget nor put out of her mind. The man who occupied her thoughts as no man had done before. She wavered—and then straightened up determinedly. She smiled graciously at Madam Stephan, entering the shelter house. And she walked out to where Von Lertz was awaiting her still smiling, but her heart was heavy with anxiety for Harrison Grant. A man skating in long curves glided past and then with a sudden turn faced her. He glanced at her closely as he skated slowly backward. Dixie had seen him several times during the afternoon. She had noticed him eyeing Von Papen and Boy-Ed. A faint hope came to her. Could it be that he was a "forward shadow?"—the man who takes the risks of the Secret Service to aid some other man to gain evidence?
She caught his eye, and winked quickly, her eyelids making the dots and dashes of the Morse code.
"Secret Service?" she signalled.
The man nodded. Dixie's heart bounded with hope. She signalled again.
"Grant—danger—lighthouse!"
She turned to Von Lertz. Looking back she saw the Secret Service man making for the shelter house.