Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 011 by Maxwel l Grant

Author:Maxwel,l Grant
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf

"What're you tryin' to do?" demanded Clipper sullenly. "Sell out to this guy?"

"That's none of your business," responded Cliff. "I've got my own game."

He was in a quandary. This was not an enviable spot. Cliff had saved Bodine, but neither did he desire to kill Clipper Tobin. Yet now that he had betrayed his hand, there would be certain danger if Clipper remained alive.

It was impractical to await the coming of The Shadow. This tableau of two men with hands poised in front of a revolver might lead to unexpected consequences. Cliff decided upon immediate action.

Even though he was now an enemy of Clipper's, he could keep the gangster from discovering his true associations. Clipper's last remark gave him a cue.

"I've got my own game," declared Cliff. "Bodine's not going to be bumped off by you. I'm going to let you slide out. That's more than you deserve."

"Double-crossin' me, eh?" derided Clipper, defiant even in the face of death. "I get you now! Bodine fixed it with you before this. You tipped him off. He wanted to see the guy that was out to get him.

You're both yellow— you've got me here, but you're scared to bump me!"

"Let him have it, Bud," interposed Bodine, seeking to work with his rescuer. "I'll slip you five grand for the job. He won't squawk when he's dead —and you won't run any chances. They'll think I got him."

"That's not in my game," returned Cliff. "I don't want your money, Bodine."

"Baloney!" sneered the defiant Clipper.

"You're leaving here, Clipper," said Cliff. "Leaving without your rod. Come over here, and don't lower your hands."

Clipper obeyed. Cliff stopped him before he was too close. With a quick, decisive action, he caught the butt of Clipper's revolver and dropped the weapon on the floor. He stepped back and waved the man toward the center of the room.

Clipper retired sullenly. Bodine had made no motion. It was easy to see that Cliff's businesslike methods had impressed him.

CLIFF made no motion to pick up the revolver that lay on the floor. That could come later. Instead, he motioned to Bodine, and pointed toward the telephone with his left hand.

"You're going to call your mob, Bodine," he said. "Tell them to hop over from the Goliath Hotel. As soon as I know they're on the way, you're going to travel, Clipper—and I'll follow. So keep going, plenty fast!"

Bodine, seeing salvation, kept his hands well away from his body as he reached for the telephone. He gave a number, and when the hotel responded, asked for his suite on the eighteenth floor. Without stopping to inquire who was at the other end, he gave his hasty information.

"I'm over at my hide-out," he said. "Suite 458, the Maurice Apartments. There's a guy here who's trying to croak me. Get some gorillas over here quick!"

There was a response; then Bodine asked quickly:

"Who's this—Gus?"

Another reply came over the wire. Bodine dropped the receiver on the hook. His expression changed.

Cliff detected it. Bodine observed his quizzing look.

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