"You're right, Deacon. It is a ticklish situation. If The Shadow is there, we'll have to get him and the girl, too. We can't kill The Shadow and leave the girl—"
He paused, puzzled. Deacon could offer no suggestion. It was Bronlon who furnished the inspiration.
"I've got it!" he exclaimed. bringing his huge fist down on the table beside him. "I've got it! Vigilantes!" Judge looked at Bronlon questioningly.
"You know this region, Judge," said the millionaire. "They've done some mob lynchings in the past. Now look at the situation. Popular indignation is all against Hubert Salisbury. There's been rumors that people have planned to storm the jail and lynch him for killing Wellington. That talk died away.
"But everyone is angry at the Delmar girl, because she's stood by Salisbury. There's been talk about running her out of town. Now suppose it was known that she is shielding a man there in the house. What's the answer? Who could he be?"
"Some accomplice of Salisbury's," declared Judge. "That's what the town would think."
"Right!" exclaimed Bronlon. "If the tip got out, it wouldn't take much to start a surging mob down there especially on a Sunday night. They'd get the man; they'd carry away the girl. Maybe they would kill her, too."
"You've got it, Bronlon," said Judge. "But we can't run the risk. A mob is too uncertain — too unruly. It might ruin us."
"Not the mob I'm planning," leered Bronlon.
Understanding dawned upon the faces of Judge and Deacon. They listened with changing expressions while Bronlon unfolded his scheme.