Whether there were
lights below, we could not tell. If there were they must have been
effectively concealed by blinds and shades.
"We'll stop here," announced Garrick at last when we had reached a
point on the road a few hundred yards from the house.
He ran the car carefully off the road and into a little clearing
in a clump of dark trees. We got out and pushed stealthily forward
through the underbrush to the edge of the woods. There, on the
slope, just a little way below us, stood the house of mystery.
Garrick and Dillon were busily conferring in an undertone, as I
helped them bring the packages one after another from the car to
the edge of the woods. Garrick had slipped the little telephone
mouthpiece into his pocket, and was carrying the huge reflector
carefully, so that it might not be injured in the darkness. I had
the heavy coats of the peculiar texture over my arm, while Dillon
and his man struggled along over the uncertain pathway, carrying
between them the heavy, long, cylindrical package, which must have
weighed some sixty pounds or so.
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