THE GREEN SHADOW

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 948, 15 April 1930, Page 5

THE GREEN SHADOW

By

HERMAN LANDON

Copyright by Publio Ledger

CHAPTER Vl.—Continued

Dale nodded. He twilled his stick between his knees and gazed out over the rolling greensward and the trees in the autumnal colouring. There was a warm haze over it all, and a certain tender feeling was pulsing wistfully through the beauty of the landscape. “Forgive me if I speak bluntly.” he murmured. “Your father is the mysterious Mr. Graves. Dr. Moffett knows it ” “Dr. Moffett has documentary evidence which proves that your father is the mysterious Mr. Graves,” Dale calmly continued, “and he has placed an outrageous price on his silence, a price which your~father is unable to meet even if he were so inclined. That's the situation in a nutshell, isn't it?” The girl shrank away from him a little. “How do you know all that?” “It is true, isn't it?” •» “Yes!” The little word came on a fluttering whisper, “But I don’t understand ” “It isn’t necessary that you should understand just at present. Miss Castle, do you think you could trust me?” She looked at him solemnly and with a quaver. “I have no choice I am at your mercy. You seem to have information in your possession that could destroy my father.” “Nonsense, Miss Castle. You are not at my mercy. You don’t believe for a moment that I would use the information I have in an unprincipled manner. Do you?” “No,” she replied faintly, after a little period of hesitation, during which she scanned his Crank expression and clear-cut features. “No, I don’t believe you would.” “Thank you,” Dale said gently. “I don’t believe you would betray me. either. By inference I have admitted that I am the Picaroon. You are the first and only person to whom I have made such an admission. Of course,” he chuckled softly, “there are no witnesses to this exchange of confidences. I can lie frank without

jeopardising my safety. But I don’t believe you would harm me even if you could.” “No, I wouldn’t. That wouldn’t be playing fair. Besides”—and with an expression of doubt and keen curiosity she gazed at him incredulously, she scanned his face —“I don’t believe, even now, that you are The Picaroon.” “Tell that to Summers,” Dale laughed. “Now, Aliss Casle, let us face a few facts. This Dr. Moffett appears to be a villainous old soul. Neither you nor I have seen him, but we have heard his voice. Rather pleasaut voice, hasn’t he?” “Yes, but I had a feeling he was disguising it.” “So did I. You were closer to him than I. What did you see?” “A rich green light like velvet.” Adele shivered a little. She had not yet grown accustomed to the presence of this strange man who in some intimate way appeared to have acquired a knowledge of the facts that concerned her most vitally. “I also saw a figure, but it was very shadowy. The face l couldn’t see at all. There seemed to be a cloud over it.” Dale nodded understandingly. “You found it a bit spooky, of course. That’s what Dr. Moffett intended. One of his objects was to make you feel that it would be useless to resist a man like him. 1 don’t believe he quite succeeded. I don’t think you are easily frightened.” “Oh, but I was. 1 was all chills and fevers for a while.” “But* only for a while. The net result fell short of Dr. Moffett’s aim. So far as he has been successful in his secondary aim, however. He lias preserved his anonymity. Probably there is no such person as Dr. Aloffett. We shouldn’t know him if we should come face to face with him. Even the voice we heard was dissembled.” “You heard it, too?” “1 \vas there.” “In the room with the green light?” He smiled mysteriously. “1 was not far away. I heard nearly every word. Let me tell you a secret. The Picaroon visited Dr. Moffett’s house one dark night about a month ago. It

was just chance that brought him there that time. 1-Ie didn’t see Ur. Moffett, but he observed a number of curious things. He decided to make a return visit and find out some more. That’s how he happened to be present during your interview with the doctor.” ‘‘Oh, I see,” She smiled faintly, but soon her face sobered again. “He told me is t-he ugliest man in creation. That’s one reason why he doesn’t want to be seen. Now, if we should come face to face with a very ugly man ” Dale laughed. ‘ Yes, that would shatter Doctor Moffett’s anonymity. If he is as ugly as he told you, then he would be very conspicuous in a crowd. But it’s possible he told you a lie.” “I hadn’t thought of that.” “Well, we can’t be certain. Maybe he lied, or maybe he told the truth.” “He also said that he is suffering from a nervous ailment that makes his eyes sensitive to most colours except green.”

THE CATERPILLAR “That may have been true. One thing is certain. He is very careful to conceal his identity in his negotiations with his victims. That gives him added security, and n addition it makes him appear more formidable. You’re a brick, Miss Castle. Ever so many girls would have fainted or gone into hyserics. You braved it out like a thoroughbred.” She blushed faintly beneat his frank, admiring gaze. It was very difficult to believe that this ma nwa.s the notorious Picaroon. Her eyes, no longer full of distrust and doubt, searched his face. It was odd how quickly this stranger of dark repute had won her confidence. “You were there,” she murmured, absently. “You heard everything, yet you didn’t see anybody. That proves it I It wasn’t all my imagination. 1 wasn’t in a trance. It was no hallu cination. It act.najlv happened as i thought it did. I was wondering afterward if my senses hadn’t tricked me." “Perhaps they did, but it was all real enough.” “How could it be real if my senses deceived me?” “It’s a poser, isn’t it? The trouble, is that it’s hard to tell where reality ends and illusion begins. See that caterpillar. Miss Castle? It’s difficult to believe that such a creature will be a butterfly some day, isn’t it?” “T don’t see any caterpillar.” “There he is.” Dale pointed with his stick. “You see him now, don’t you? The reason you didn't see him at once is that he is green, almost the same shade of green as the grass he crawls in.” For a moment she followed the writhing motions of the larva, then stared up into Dale’s face. A look of

! bewildered and partial understanding appeared in her dark eyes. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “That would explain. But,” and a little pucker appeared on her forehead, “Doctor Moffett lias no protective colouring, and he doesn’t crawl in grass.” “No, of course not,” said Dale in a queer voice. Her great, puzzled eyes were still full upon him. “Do you understand how Doctor Moffett makes his face invisible?” “No, I don’t, but I hope to understand some day. I was only trying to point out that there is nothing supernatural about invisibility. This poor, ugly little caterpillar is giving you a partial demonstration. Maybe Doctor Moffett isn’t any more dangerous than he.” “THAT’S MISS CONWAY!” For a moment longer she remained silent, almost breathless, then gave a clear, bright laugh. “I don’t feel such dread of Doctor Moffett now. You have —er —puiied his fangs.” “Splendid! We are making progress. Now that we have deprived the devil or his cloven hoof, there is another thing you must know. You

have no idea, I suppose, as to the location of the house where Doctor Aloffett interviewed you?” “Not the slightest. I was taken there in an automobile by a most fascinating woman who calls herself Aliss Conway. The windows were blinded and I couldn’t see where we were going.” “Miss Conway?” Dale murmured. “Well, names don’t seem to mean much in this affair. The house, Miss Castle, was No. 262 Bank Street. A certain Mr. Alexander Ferryman owns it. He also owns the adjoining house, No. 260, in which he resides at present.” Adele gave him a startled glance. “How do you know all this?” she exclaimed. Dale smiled. “For the present you will have to accept my unsupported word. Until four years ago, when his wife left him, Mr. Ferryman lived in No. 262. Then the associations grew too painful and he moved next door. The only occupant of the former residence is an old caretaker named Axelson. “The only ostensible occupant, that is. It appears Dr. Aloffett is making clandestine use of the house for his enterprise. Just now I can’t tell you how he contrives it, or why he has selected another man’s house for the scene of his operations, but it was to that same house you were taken by Aliss Conwaju Adele inclined her head thoughtfully. “It scarcely seems possible. We went there in broad daylight and we entered by the front door. There was no secrecy about it at all. We didn’t act like trespassers. The Air. Ferryman you speak of must have seen us if he had happened to look out the windows of the next house, and the caretaker surely ” “I must have a little talk with the caretaker,” Dale interrupted. “I have my doubts about him. As for Ferryman, he may have been absent. Or perhaps,” he added whimsically, “Dr. Aloffett flung a cloak of invisibility over the car and its occupants. At any rate, that was the house. And last night a most distressing affair took place there—murder.” A little exclamation of horror broke from the girl’s lips. “It appears Mr. Ferryman’s missing wife returned very quietly.” Dale went on, speaking rapidly, as if trying to skip over tlie unpleasant details. “Some time during the night she was killed. This morning the caretaker found the body in one of the upstairs rooms. “It’s quite pathetic. All this time Ferryman has held to his faith that she would return. He has kept everything in order for her home-coming at the. former residence. Now he is heartbroken. The blow may kill him. The wife was much younger than he, and from what I’ve heard she must have been a beautj r .” “Have you seen her?” “No, but some one gave me a description of her this morning. It gave me quite a vivid picture of her.” He proceeded to repeat the detailed description of the dead woman which Captain Summers had given him. Adele listened intentlju her face growing tenser and tenser, and toward the end she uttered a startled little cry. “That’s Aliss Conway!” she exclaimed. It was Dale’s turn to show astonishment. “Miss Conway? Are you su re?” “The description fits her exactly. Of course, it’s possible for two persons to look almost exactly alike.” “Yes, possible, but in this case the coincidence is a bit staggering. I-I’m! No, I can’t believe it’s a coincidence. The woman who took j*ou to No. 262 Bank Street must have been Ferryman’s missing wife. If so, she must have been associated with Dr. Moffett. That would partly explain why Dr. Aloffett found it so easy to make use of Ferryman’s house. “It explains nothing else, however. Ferryman, poor devil—but all that is beside the issue. What interests us more is that your father is being persecuted by one of the blackest scoundrels in creation.” THE PICAROON’S PAST

Her face darkened. The strange man seated beside her had momentarily scattered the clouds hanging over her, but now the shadow Cell athwart her path again. “Will you let me help you?” he askeu.

“Why would you ask to help me?” “I hardly know.” A look of wistfulness entered his gray ej'es. “Life is a queer thing. Fate is having its merry way with us. Now and then wo feel like taking a hand in the game. Do you know, when I caught a glimpse of you at 262 Bank Street l was reminded of some one—some one almost as good and beautiful as you.” She felt a rush of colour to her cheeks and her eyes fell. “That isn’t flattery. It’s only a statement of fact. I am trying to make you understand something I scarcely understand myself. She — the other one—went away and left me one da3', just as poor Ferryman’s wife left him. She wasn’t to blame. There had been a—a misunderstanding. The majesty of the law was at fault.” He chuckled a little bitterly. “The law makes queer mistakes at times, and prison walls are ugly things. Such perishable flowers as love and faith can’t survive for long in their shadow. But 1 mustn’t bore you with

all this. It happened 3'ears ago. and | now ” His voice drooped, then paused , With his cane he was tracing figures i in the sandy walk at their feet. A | feeling of sympathy and understand ing took hold of her as she listened, her mind bridging the gaps in his ! story. He laughed. “They say time heals ■, all wounds. It’s a pretty piece of fiction. Some wounds form scars and last for ever. Maybe I’m a hope . less imbecile. I should let bygones ! be bygones, but somehow I can’t. I n ' a vindictive cuss, you see, Miss j Castle. The law did its best to tear ; my life to tatters, and ever since I’ve j been snapping back like an impudent j bull pup. (To be Continued Tc ~io«*row.)