Harry strung an aerial between two trees. He worked with speed and precision.
The sending key clicked when he had completed operations. Harry's fingers were at work. With the special equipment provided him by The Shadow, Harry was reporting.
Somewhere, not far from New York, The Shadow had a sending station which enabled him to keep in direct touch by wireless. Harry had used this method of communication in the past. So far as he knew, the man at the other end was Burbank, The Shadow's most trusted agent.
Harry had often communicated with him.
Harry did not wait for a response. Satisfied that the set was working, he hurried toward the roadhouse, and did not slacken his pace until he was close by the building. There, he crouched in darkness and wormed his way toward a lighted window.
The shade was drawn, but there was a slight space at the bottom. Peering through, Harry saw Denby Chadwick, seated at a table.
Chadwick was waiting for someone who had not yet arrived. While Harry watched and waited, he heard a car pull in from the pike, bound toward a parking space at the side of the roadhouse. A few minutes later, a door opened within the room. A man entered. Harry stared.
The man was heavy and powerfully built. His face was an ugly one.
Stuart Bruxton's description of Grady flashed through Harry's mind. He felt positive this man was the killer who had slain both Jefferson and Powell!
Harry's hand tightened on his automatic. If Grady attempted murder here, he would fail.