CHAPTER XXIV

At Grips with the Black Shadow

Unconscious of the events at the lodge, Barry crouched in the snow at the base of the quarry wall and gazed in the direction of the shed into which the figure in black had disappeared. His whole plan of action had to be changed, and for the time being he did not know what to do. He had planned to return to the tool house by way of the tunnel and tell his friends what he had discovered, but now it was highly dangerous to go back that way.

“The bale of hay sort of slides down on the trapdoor when you pull it down,” he thought. “Perhaps he won’t find out that someone has been in the passageway. I’m glad I closed all doors and walls behind me! But there may be footprints or something else to give me away. Gosh, this is a tough situation!”

The man in black was undoubtedly going to the lodge to start his series of annoyances, and Barry knew that these things would frighten the girls. Besides preventing that, he wanted more than anything else to take this prowler a captive, and if it was not done tonight, it might never be done. He fairly groaned as he saw the hopelessness of the situation.

“The boys may not get him, and if we lose him this time we’re sunk! If I had my hunting rifle I’d go back along the tunnel and call on him to surrender, but I haven’t a thing, and I imagine that the man is armed or at least able to put up a good fight. It would be suicide to follow him through the passageway. But I must get back!”

There were just two ways open to him: through the underground tunnel or by way of the woods. Of course the secret passage was the quickest route, but it was also the most dangerous. Barry decided not to risk it.

“It will take me a little longer to dash through the woods, but it will be a heap safer,” he reflected. “If I went through the tunnel and met the spook face to face, I’d never be able to get away, and I’ve simply got to get back and warn the people at the lodge!”

Rising from his stooping position, Barry began to run toward the shed. He did not like the idea of having to pass it, for the man might have found out that someone had been in the passage, and might have returned to investigate the vicinity of the quarry. There was a chance that the black shadow might step out of the shed just as he passed, and if that happened things would not be well for the boy. But there was no help for it, and he sprinted past, glancing sideways in some alarm and ready to increase his speed if need be. The door of the shed, however, remained closed, and no one challenged him as he sped past.

“Good luck!” he exulted, as he left the quarry and plunged into the woods. “I made that all right, and now if I can get to the lodge just about as soon as he does, everything will be all right.”

He did not take the exact path that he and Kent had taken on the night of the big storm, since they had gone in a roundabout way, but, relying on chance, he cut across the timber belt in a straight line, hoping that he was not making any mistake. Running was not easy because the snow was loose and the under snow had melted and then frozen again, making slippery footing. Occasionally his foot hit the root of a tree or a stone, and once he dropped on one knee and only saved himself from a complete fall by his outflung hands. But he struggled on, determined to reach the ones in the lodge as soon as possible.

When he reached the edge of the trees he saw the man in black sneaking from the tool house toward the rear porch of the lodge. At the same time something happened that caused the black shadow to stop and flatten himself against the wall of the house and made Barry halt in his run.

There was a sudden stir and some shouts, and then Coach Jordan and the other boys came running across the porch and jumped into the snow. Watching with bewildered eyes, Barry thought for a moment that they had somehow discovered the presence of the black shadow, but they did not come along the side of the lodge building, but dashed across the snow in the direction of the Bronson cabin. Barry followed them with his eyes, and then he noticed that the sleighs were gone. The situation began to dawn upon him.

“Somebody has taken the sleighs, and the boys are after them. Carter Wolf said he was going to do something to break up our party, and I guess he’ll do it in one way or another. Some of those sleighs are borrowed, and I hope they don’t smash them up in any way.”

He wondered what the man in black would do and once more looked in his direction. The prowler had been as completely surprised as Barry had been, and while the boys were running he remained perfectly still, pressed close against the wall. But now he had glided in swift retreat to the back porch, which afforded more shelter.

There was another exodus from the lodge as the girls followed the boys, accompanied by the leaping, barking Castor Oil. Jennie had been feeding him marshmallows, and he was completely her slave, so much so that, when Charlie had run out, his clumsy animal companion had watched him go without any desire to follow him. He was content to run with the girls, dashing and barking in a wild display of good spirits.

Barry could hear the girls talking, and he watched them disappear down the slope that led from the front of the Bronson cabin to the lake. Something had happened down there, and he was anxious to know what it was, but his duty now was to watch the man who had taken refuge on the back porch of the hunting lodge. No doubt his plans had been upset as had Barry’s, and it was interesting to see what he would do under the circumstances. Would he beat a retreat down the passageway and be lost to them, Barry wondered? Of course, if the man did, it would be much safer for them simply to get some officers of the law up there and try and trace the tunnel and find out where the man lived. But the thought did not satisfy him. He wanted to catch the prowler on the spot, so that he would have no loophole through which to escape when accused of causing the disturbances at Bluff Lodge.

Perhaps the shadow would go back into the tool house and wait until they got back, so as to produce rappings and noises. If this was his program, Barry felt sure that he could tackle the man on the spot and hold him until help arrived, but he would want that help to be pretty near at the time. No doubt the prowler was armed, as anyone engaged in a desperate business was likely to be, unless he had scorned to go armed against a group of high-school boys and girls.

Barry was not left long in doubt. The man had hesitated because he had been doing some rapid thinking, and at last he had made up his mind. Leaving the back porch, he ran hastily to the living-room window and peered in. Then he bent low to escape the light from the fire and the lamps and passed on to the front, where he crossed the porch and entered the front door.

Barry guessed his intention at once. The boys and girls had run out and left many things behind them, among other things some fairly good coats, and the pocketbooks of the girls were on the table. The black shadow had made up his mind to take them and get away, and perhaps to come back with his knocking pranks later on. Knowing the lodge as well as he seemed to, he would no doubt go out the back as they came in the front. Fate had put him in position to make a daring and completely successful raid.

Barry lost no time. Running his best, he left the timber and cut on a straight line for the lodge. He did not know what the boys were doing down there at the lake, and he had no time to go and find out. It was his supreme chance, and he had the feeling that if he lost out now, the ghostly prowler of Bluff Lodge would never be captured. He leaped to the porch and ran across it into the dark hall and finally jerked the door to the living room open, blinking in the light of the lamps as his eyes swept the interior of the place.

The tall man in the black overcoat, hat, and gloves whirled at the sound of his coming and turned two burning dark eyes upon him. But if Barry expected to see his face, he was disappointed. A black handkerchief obscured all of it except his eyes, which seemed to glare out above the covering. He had been feverishly picking up coats, hats, and pocketbooks and was in the act of taking a fur piece belonging to Mrs. Jordan when Barry burst into the room. As the boy faced him with resolute though pale face, the man pointed a black-gloved finger at him.

“Get out of here, boy!” he cried, hoarsely. “Get out or you’ll wish you had!”

Barry had made up his mind, on the way, that talking would be a waste of time. From the moment that he had opened the door he was preparing for the struggle that was sure to come. He had opened his Mackinaw coat while running, and now he dropped it to the floor behind him. Then, even while the man was pointing at him, he leaped across the floor at the black-clad figure.

He was tense and his throat was dry as he closed in on the intruder. His great fear was that the man would draw a weapon and shoot him down. But the truth of the matter was that he had engaged the man at exactly the right time. The outlaw had his arms full of coats and other things, and as Barry grappled with him he was vainly trying to shake a pocketbook loose, the chain of which had become twisted around his middle finger on his right hand. This incident, small as it was, gave Barry a fighting chance.

His arms went around the man, and with a twist the high-school boy swept his adversary off his feet. They went down with a resounding crash to the floor, and the black hat rolled off, revealing a rather well-shaped head with a high forehead. The black eyes seemed to look into Barry’s face for an instant in surprise.

Then their expression turned to one of deadly hate, and the battle was on. Only for a moment did the man accept his quick overthrow. In the twinkling of an eye he was fighting like a tiger, snarling exceedingly bad language as his eyes seemed to shoot out fire. Barry felt the muscles under the long black overcoat stiffen and become like steel, and the fingers that began to creep and grope for his throat were wiry and powerful. Reaching for one of the man’s hands, Barry was tossed forward, and his arm brushed the black handkerchief from his face. Only for an instant did he see the features of his enemy. The man was about forty years old, with a thin face and small mustache. Just now the veins on his forehead stood out, and his teeth showed slightly as he exerted himself to overcome the mystery hunter.

The man launched a blow at Barry which caught him off guard and caused him to pause in his efforts to pin down the hands of the prowler. The fist of the stranger landed just under Barry’s chin, and in the pain and surprise of it the boy hesitated. This was just what the man was waiting for. His long thin legs came up, one of them hooked over Barry’s neck, and a mighty tug sent the boy tumbling backward. Before the young mystery hunter could recover, the black shadow was upon him and strong fingers had gripped his throat, cutting off his wind instantly. Sudden fire and aching pain shot through the boy from Cloverfield.

“This is the end!” flashed through his bewildered mind. “I’m completely beaten!”

At that moment the twins came running in to get a blanket for Carter Wolf. They paused on the threshold and stared at the scene before them incredulously.