Gustave pulled the trigger.

From where she sat, Margo heard the gun roar above her head. The report was followed by a smash that resembled the breaking dishes.

There was one ghost less in Stanbridge Manor. One ghost less, because it wasn't a ghost at all.

What Margo had seen was her own reflection in a full length mirror that formed that front of the door. In his excitement, Gustave had aimed at the same image.

Of course the ghost had dropped away when Margo sat down in the opposite direction. Accordingly, Gustave would have lowered his aim if The Shadow hadn't driven the gun upward.

Thanks to The Shadow, the ghost was banished, and Margo Lane was still alive!

CHAPTER IX.

WHITE AND BLACK.

As the gun recoiled, The Shadow added a quick tripping action to help it carry Gustave backward. Hitting the floor, Gustave attracted so much attention that The Shadow escaped notice. He was at the head of the front stairs, which the rest had pa.s.sed, and by a quick side twist, he dropped below the uppersteps.

From there, The Shadow caught a glimpse of Hector's white coat, moving toward the door of the Colonial Room, which was open. Hector must have closed the door, for a few moments later, he was visible again, this time near the head of the back stairs.

Beyond the cl.u.s.tered persons in the upstairs pa.s.sage, Hector was beckoning to Dunninger and the rest who had gone through the kitchen. Finding nothing there except broken dishes, they had completed their roundabout trail by coming up the back stairs. While the first arrivals were explaining matters to the newcomers, The Shadow glided down the front stairs and out the front door, latching it behind him to prevent the entry of any rival intruders.

While Dunninger was investigating matters indoors, The Shadow intended to patrol the outside of the house.

SINCE tragedy had been averted, the mirror door provided some comic relief to an otherwise tense situation. A good many of the doors in the mansion had mirrors, on one side or the other, but Margo hadn't happened to notice this one.

The door was open when Margo had been shown into the Green Room, hence its mirror was against the pa.s.sage wall. In closing the door behind her, Margo, naturally, couldn't have seen the mirror, because it was on the outside.

As for Gustave, he had forgotten all about the mirror, at least so he claimed. Though he really owed apologies to Margo, he was extending them to every one else. Margo was just as glad, because it gave her a chance to rise from her sprawl and get her arms into the sleeves of the dressing gown.

Rather ruefully, Margo felt that the fault was her own. If she'd waited longer in the first place, she could have put the gown on properly. In that case, it would have fully covered the white nightie that had shown enough of itself to make Margo mistake her own reflection for a ghost.

Having regained her composure, Margo found that she needed her notebook.

Though everyone agreed that Gustave had blasted the mirror with his shot gun, testimony conflicted on all other points, so it was necessary to record whatever each witness had to say. The person who had the most to say was Gustave, so Dunninger questioned him first.

Haggard of face, quavering of tone, Gustave insisted that a ghost had figured in the case. He wasn't thinking of the stones that had rattled down the stairs, nor the dishes that broke in the kitchen. What bothered Gustave was the fact that something had grabbed his shotgun when he tried to fire.

From Gustave's description, the thing was a cross between an octopus and a gorilla, having the grip of the former and the strength of the latter. But the hybrid creature was a ghost as well, because it had disappeared as suddenly as it had materialized.

No one agreed with Gustave's statement. The rest simply felt that he had exaggerated the kick he received from the shotgun.

In contrast to Gustave, Jennifer supplied some remarkably accurate testimony. Though she had lapsed briefly into her favorite theme of ghosts, she was willing to forgo it. Having forgotten that Margo was in the Green Room, Jennifer thought in terms of ghosts when she saw the door swing open, but she was now inclined to revert to a former opinion. There had been no ghosts tonight.

Ghosts were impossible, according to Jennifer, when a disturbing presence like Dunninger was on hand. Jennifer declared that Hector had played the ghost and she didn't exactly blame him. In fact, it was only right that the servant should have tried to maintain the family tradition under trying circ.u.mstances.

Stoutly, Jennifer declared that she had seen Hector go down to the kitchen.

Returning, he must have thrown the stones and hurried back to his room. There was one flaw to Jennifer's theory: the crash in the kitchen had come after the throwing of the stones. Letting that pa.s.s, Dunninger asked Hector to state his case.

Instead of mentioning Jennifer's mistake, Hector simply denied all culpability on the ground that Jennifer had done the things herself.

Considering that Jennifer justified the deeds, Hector did not feel that she would resent the impeachment. He believed that Jennifer had thrown the stones, gone down to the kitchen, dumped the dishes, and come up the back stairs again.

The flaw in this case was that Jennifer was not spry enough for such rapid action. The business of her speedy trip upstairs was something very difficult to credit.

Both Roger and Torrance had gone with Dunninger, but Clyde and Wiggam were among the few who had used the front stairs. None of them told stories exactly alike, but they did correspond satisfactorily. All remembered seeing Jennifer point down the pa.s.sage as Hector arrived.

They'd looked the other way when the old lady indicated Margo's door.

Margo's screech and Gustave's discharge of the shotgun were both described, along with the sprawls the two had taken, but n.o.body could agree on how much time those incidents had taken.

Dunninger gestured to the door of the Colonial Room and queried: "Wasn't this open?"

SINCE n.o.body could remember, Dunninger opened the door himself and went into the ancient room. It proved quite empty, closet and all, so Dunninger suggested that they go down to the great hall and examine the geological specimens that some force had projected.

The stones looked like odd pebbles that might have been gathered anywhere.

When Dunninger spread the collection on the table where Jennifer usually kept the planchette, Gustave eyed them closely and suddenly exclaimed: "They're Donald's!"

Hardly had he blurted those words, before his face went haggard, for Gustave suddenly remembered that he was chiming in with Jennifer's pet claim that Donald's spirit was responsible for things that happened around the manor.

"They do look like Donald's," remarked Roger. "He used to ramble all over the country, collecting odd minerals. Whatever became of them, Gustave?"

"Jennifer has them!" Gustave's eyes glared through his death-mask face.

"She keeps them locked away somewhere."

For a moment, Jennifer frowned. Her eyes gave an accusing glance toward Hector.

"Don't look at Hector," sneered Gustave. "He couldn't have dug up these.

It's your work, Jennifer. You wanted us to think that Donald's spirit was around, even though it couldn't be. So you chucked these stones and now that you're afraid we've found you out, you deny it."

Haughtily, Jennifer turned to the stairs, stating that she would soonreturn. She came back, bringing a square box and handed the key to Dunninger, who unlocked the box. It proved to be nearly full of odd stones resembling those that had spattered down the stairs. When Dunninger asked if he could keep the box a while, Jennifer nodded.

"Donald's spirit would not have taken those," a.s.serted Jennifer. "He is no longer of this world, hence he is not interested in material things. That is all I have to say. Good night."

When Jennifer had gone, Hector began to shift uneasily, fearing that he would have to bear the brunt of all remaining accusations. To even the score, Dunninger told the servant he could retire. Then, in brief style, Dunninger summed the existing evidence.

Reminding the listeners that his business was to explain or duplicate any phenomena, Dunninger declared that nothing had occurred beyond such limits.

Either Jennifer or Hector could have been responsible for everything that had happened tonight, thus their mutual accusations were in order.

Everyone seemed willing to agree until Dr. Torrance brought up the question of the dishes, insisting that Jennifer couldn't have reached the second floor in time to alibi herself and that Hector couldn't have gone clear to his own room.

In reply, Dunninger invited everyone to the kitchen.

AS on a previous night, the candlestick was lying on the floor, its candle broken like the dishes. Pointing to the table, Dunninger called attention to the fact that its edge was dabbed with thick grease, evidently drippings from candles. Torrance remembered that the candle grease had been there the other night.

Picking up a candle, Dunninger lighted it and applied the flaming wick to the wax on the table edge. After the wax softened, he set the candle there, fixing it firmly. Picking up some larger fragments of chinaware, Dunninger set them in overlapping fashion so that their weight rested against the burning candle. He left the candlestick on the table and told everyone to watch.

After a few minutes, the burning candle began to weaken. Suddenly it yielded and the flock of dishes took a slide, carrying the candle with them.

Slanted as they were, the dishes continued right to the floor, smashing what remained of them. To all appearances the candlestick had been dumped with the chinaware.

"So that was it!" exclaimed Roger. "I'd never have guessed the trick myself. Still, the wax on the table edge proved it. Now the question is: who did it, Jennifer or Hector? This stunt would have allowed either of them time to get upstairs and chuck the stones. Of course Jennifer had the box, but Hector might have found the key."

Dunninger simply shrugged as though it didn't matter. Having proven the existence of fraud, his work was done. He was willing to let Jennifer and Hector each have their out at the expense of the other.

"Suppose we go outside," suggested Roger, "and see what we can learn about the tower ghost. That's the only thing that is still unexplained."

The clouds were clearing, bringing a fair show of moonlight, when thegroup came out by the front door and went beyond the porte-cochere. As they moved back and forth across the dawn, Wiggam pointed suddenly and exclaimed: "There's the ghost!"

The others joined the caretaker. Wiggam was right; the tower did show a curious shape in white, stooping oddly amid the open work. The thing wavered, but as witnesses watched, they noted that its action was somewhat mechanical.

An increase of the moonlight banished the illusion. From this angle, the trees of the cemetery formed a background behind the tower. Wiggam had chanced upon a spot where the one tree directly behind the tower was a white birch. A long bough sloping up behind the tower was responsible for the ghostly form.

Margo hadn't gone outdoors, because it was too chilly. She heard the facts from Clyde when he returned and set them down in the notebook along with the other data. That done, Margo went back to her room, quite relieved that all was solved.

There was just one thing that brought a brief return of Margo's worry.

From her darkened window, the girl saw figures moving along beside the house. The men weren't carrying flashlights, probably because they didn't need them, now that the moonlight had begun to glow. Turning the corner, the figures went in the direction of the old mausoleum.

Margo decided that they must be some of the reporters, having a look around the grounds. Still, when Clyde returned, the reporters had all been out front, viewing the birch tree ghost.

Then, off in the distant moonlight, Margo saw a figure that should have worried her, though it didn't. It was a fleeting form, so briefly visible that it answered the description of a ghost. But it wasn't white; it was black.

That satisfied Margo. She could even fancy that the whine of the wind was carrying the echoes of an eerie laugh. Such mirth produced shudders from most persons who heard it, but Margo was exempt. To her that weird tone, whether real or imaginary, was a symbol of rea.s.surance.

Margo was sure that The Shadow was still on the scene, ready to solve the remaining shreds of the ghostly manifestations that had suffered so severe a setback.

CHAPTER X.

THE NOTE FROM NOWHERE.

THE next day, Dunninger began to collect the apparatus that he had stationed around Stanbridge Manor. The appliances proved to be more varied than anyone had supposed. Among other things, Dunninger gathered in long lengths of wire connected to micrometer devices.

His cameras, too, were all about, hidden in some very surprising places.

A.

small one, for instance, was under the table in the little upstairs hallway where Jennifer had put the planchette and its pad of loose papers. Another was neatly perched within an old grandfather's clock in the Colonial Room.

Only Clyde and Margo witnessed this a.s.sembling of Dunninger's devices. It almost seemed that the psychic investigator had marked them as privileged persons among the visitors at Stanbridge Manor. After removing tapes from various doors, Dunninger went over Margo's notes and asked her to type them in duplicate. Part of the day, Dunninger was busy developing photographs, while Clyde saw to it that n.o.body disturbed him. In the dark room, he spent some time examining the stones that had bounced down the stairs. He finally returned the box and its contents to Jennifer, but politely kept the other specimens, because Jennifer denied that they were Donald's.

In going over Margo's notes, Dunninger made a few additions, mostly in the form of underlined statements. There was just one point upon which he specially insisted.

"Include the three possibilities," stated Dunninger. "First, that paranormal ent.i.ties, otherwise ghosts, are accepted in certain circles as a plausible cause of manifestations."

"But not in your circle," put in Margo, with a smile. "Shall I include that statement?"

"Of course," replied Dunninger, "because they have been satisfactorily disproven in this case. Next, emphasize the explanation that I did give; that of persons in the household playing the ghost."

"I'll keep it neutral," nodded Margo. "Shall I mention that it could have been unconscious fraud?"

"Certainly. It could apply to either Jennifer or Hector, especially if both were involved in it. But don't forget the third point; that of outside interference."

Margo added the third point, wondering how much inkling Dunninger had regarding The Shadow's presence. Personally, Margo was convinced that The Shadow must have been the octorilla that had ruined Gustave's aim with the shotgun, but she couldn't understand how Dunninger knew it, considering that he had still been in the kitchen when the gun kicked Gustave about three times as far as it should have.

Late that afternoon, Lamont Cranston arrived in a car, to find if Margo intended to return to New York. It turned out that Margo didn't, because Dunninger planned to stay another evening, through the hour when ghosts were accustomed to appear. The reporters were staying, too, on the hope that something new might happen, so Margo felt that she ought to remain and complete her notes.

Leaving at dusk, Cranston complimented Margo on her fort.i.tude at remaining another night in Stanbridge Manor. In reply, she said that she wouldn't stay unless Clyde did; if he left, she would go along.

AFTER supper, everyone waited for something to happen. Even though Dunninger had removed all of his special equipment, nothing did happen, because tonight the human element was being considered. The human element was divided between Jennifer and Hector. Both remained in the great hall along with the rest.

The ghost hour over, Jennifer announced that she was going to pay a visit to Donald's grave, something that she had neglected on the previous evening.

She went upstairs and returned wearing her gray cape. The reporters lookedhopefully at Dunninger, thinking he might let them trail Jennifer out through the cemetery, but he shook his head.

When Jennifer returned, Dunninger politely took her cape and carried it upstairs. When he returned, he announced that the ghost hunt was over. He asked Margo to bring down her notes so the reporters could go over them. It was when Margo was coming from the Green Room that she saw something which startled her.

A door was opening across the hall. It was the door of the Colonial Room and it stopped the moment that Margo observed it. The thing was uncanny, even though Margo could hear laughing voices coming from the floor below. Going over to the door, Margo gripped it and drew it slowly shut. The door continued its motion for a few inches on smooth, silent hinges.

There was a slight breeze in the pa.s.sage, coming from the Green Room window that Margo had forgotten to close. She decided that it explained the motion of the door, so she went downstairs, and joined the others. When somebody asked jocularly if she had met with any ghosts, Margo mentioned the breeze and said that it had startled her until she realized what caused it. But she said nothing about the moving door.

The door was moving again, though Margo did not know it. Out from the darkened room emerged the most spectral figure that had ever appeared in Stanbridge Manor. The cloaked shape of The Shadow was again at large on these preserves that ghosts no longer haunted!

PAUSING briefly, The Shadow felt the breeze that Margo had noted.

Silently, he continued to the little hallway beside the stairs. There, in the glow of the night lamp, he took a sheet of paper from Jennifer's pad and wrote a message on it, in ink from a fountain pen that The Shadow personally carried.

Folding the paper, The Shadow kept it tightly pressed. Advancing to the stair top, he leaned forward and peered below. He could see the group in the great hall, but at his angle above the balcony rail, The Shadow could have remained totally invisible. However, he preferred to reveal his presence, for any who chose to notice it.

The Shadow did it with his eyes. Fixed on the scene below, those optics caught the gleam of the upstairs lamp and reflected it like orbs from outer s.p.a.ce. Singular eyes those, fiery spots in blotting blackness, which almost any observer would have cla.s.sed as token of a ghost.

There was much of the magnetic in The Shadow's burning gaze. Again, the man who sensed the proximity of a strange presence was Dunninger. Over by the fireplace, Dunninger looked upward with a roving glance that ended at the stair top and casually drifted away.