"Right. We don't know what's going to happen. If the stranger is being followed, you might mistake the second man for me."
"Well, when you reach this spot, whistle very low. Be sure you are far enough behind your man so your presence will not be known."
Bruce moved silently toward Ridge Road. Harry stole along the path toward the cabin. He could see the gleam from here; one of the front windows of the house was also poorly screened from within.
Harry reached a spot not far from the cabin and took shelter among some bushes. The night was calm and still. It was cloudy, and the light of the waning moon was well-obscured.
Harry was wearing a wrist watch with a luminous dial; he consulted this from time to time. At half past eleven he figured that the bus was leaving the station. It should reach its stopping point within fifteen minutes.
Quarter of twelve, and still no sound from the cabin or from the road below. It would require nearly ten minutes for the arriving man to reach this spot.
Harry began to wonder about The Shadow. Was he here, too — that mysterious stranger who seemed to live in darkness? Harry believed that The Shadow must be close at hand — he usually was when trouble was brewing. The thought was comforting. He and Bruce might need help before this adventure was ended.
The watch showed one minute of twelve. The stranger should be here now. He should have been here before this. He should have passed by Duncan, at least.
* * *
What was that? Some one coming along the path from the road? Harry could hear stealthy footsteps close at hand. He waited breathlessly. Then came a low, almost soundless, whistle.