The Shadow's Justice

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“TURN left, Holland.”

“Yes, sir.”

The uniformed chauffeur thrust a warning arm from the window of the sedan. He swung the big car across the slippery road. The glaring headlights showed a driveway between two lion-topped stone posts. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as the automobile rolled through the entrance of the Long Island estate.

The man in the rear seat was leaning forward, watching the driveway reveal itself through the drizzling mist. Rain-soaked shrubs and dripping trees bounded both sides of the roadway. The chauffeur drove carefully as he settled back behind the wheel, relieved now that he was free of the heavy traffic on the highway.

The headlights, swinging along the curving drive, invoked moving shadows of the night. Broad streaks of blackness wavered and swung away. Heavy blotches faded as the car passed. They seemed like living things, these shadows. The passenger watched them as he stared over the chauffeur’s shoulder.

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