Grant, Maxwell - The Shadow 130 - House of Silence by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Detective, Mystery, Crime, Suspense, Adventure, Thriller
Publisher: Street & Smith Publications
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

AS Clyde wheeled past the corner, he saw two cars. One was a touring car, parked by the bank itself but pointed in the opposite direction. The other was a sedan, on the opposite side of the street, faced toward Clyde and closer. Both cars, oddly, were parked on the wrong side of the street, in reference to their direction.

Four men were scrambling out from the bank lugging huge bags of swag. They were already on the street when Clyde saw them. They were scrambling into the touring car. Desperately, Clyde aimed, in hope that he could wing one of the robbers.

Before Clyde could fire, a shout sounded from behind him. Turning instinctively, Clyde saw Mannie. The thug had arrived at the corner; he was shouting the alarm as he aimed pointblank for Clyde.

With a quick leap, Clyde gained the wall of the bank, just as Mannie fired.

Two shots whizzed wide. Clyde jabbed one in return. Mannie had already swung his aim. Quick with the trigger, the crook had a chance for a bull’s-eye. But Clyde, looking past him, saw a blaze of light from two brilliant headlamps. A coupe was roaring in from the other side of the main street.

The Shadow!

Even as he fired wildly at Mannie, Clyde guessed that his chief had arrived. An automatic barked from long range as the car approached. Mannie’s aiming hand went up; the crook’s gun dropped, as his scowling face registered that he had been clipped.

As the gun bounced from the sidewalk, another hand snatched it. Duke was in back of Mannie. A quick-triggered gang-fighter, Duke aimed for the coupe, which was already alongside the corner curb. Duke pumped bullets wide, for his aim was hasty.

Flame tongued from the coupe. A fierce laugh sounded. The Shadow’s .45 withered Duke where he stood. The ruffian sprawled forward.

Down by the bank entrance, the touring car was starting for its get-away. Across the street, men were out of doorways, boarding the sedan, where a ready driver had the wheel and newcomers were swinging a machine gun. Their move was too late to stop The Shadow.

One press of the accelerator would have carried him past that starting sedan, beyond a hail of futile revolver stabs; into the clear before the machine gun could begin its rattle; off to the chase of the touring car that carried Blink Torgue and the swag.

The Shadow, master-fighter, had his opportunity. He did not take it.

Clyde Burke was the reason. The Shadow knew what would happen to his aid. The sedan was headed for the spot where Clyde stood flat-footed, trapped against the wall, with no time to regain the corner. When The Shadow’s car roared past, the sedan would drive in this direction. Clyde would be riddled by machine-gun fire.

The Shadow sacrificed the chase to save his agent.

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