Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 199 by Maxwel l Grant

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

CHAPTER XII. CRIME MOVES AHEAD

MANY hours had passed since The Shadow's arrival at the Westchester greenhouse. His impressions of those hours formed a series of dawns and twilights, with stretches of occasional darkness when he dozed.

Awakening from a nap that was comparatively peaceful, The Shadow at last understood why the periods of daylight had been dull. He was in a room where shades were drawn over every window, the proper treatment for a patient suffering from brain concussion.

His vision had cleared again, but The Shadow did not care to test his eyes against the sunlight. His head back against the pillows, he was content to watch the edge of a window shade and note the green of

trees beyond it.

That green was deepening. The time was late afternoon. The thought of approaching dusk was a comfortable one. It meant that The Shadow might soon drop the role of Morry Cathlan and become himself again, with no need to play the part of Lamont Cranston in between.

The door opened, noticeably enough to attract The Shadow's gaze. The man who called himself Dr.

Gordon stepped into the room. Seeing that the patient was awake, Gordy approached the bed, stood looking at The Shadow. He purred the question:

"Feeling better?"

The Shadow nodded.

"Maybe you're well enough," suggested Gordy, "to tell me what happened last night."

"Koko and I grabbed a guy named Cranston," stated The Shadow. "We were bringing him here, when he put up a battle. He heaved me out of the car just before Koko socked him."

"Koko was driving?"

"Yeah. We'd taken over Cranston's car. Anyway, Koko headed north and took Cranston along with him. I found my way here. I didn't have far to go."

"Why didn't you have Koko drive you here and bring the prisoner, too, as you originally intended?"

The Shadow was ready for that sharp-put question. He had a satisfactory answer, that he prefaced with a very knowing smile.

"There was another car went by," he said, "while we were stopped on the road putting the slug on Cranston. Koko said the guys in the other buggy slowed up, like they were looking back. Even with this bum konk of mine"—The Shadow was rubbing his head—"I figured it a dumb idea to leave a trail, if the State coppers showed up.

"I knew you could hide me, all right, Gordy, or explain I was a friend of yours. But two other guys and a car would have been a big order."

Gordy agreed. He asked where Koko had taken Cranston. The Shadow shrugged.

"Somewhere over in Jersey," he said. "To any one of six places where we used to hide beer when we were highjacking the brewery trucks. I'll make the rounds after I leave here."

Suspicion flashed in Gordy's eyes, though he tried to smother it. He offered The Shadow a cigarette, took one for himself. While he was supplying a match, Gordy put another question, crisply:

"Didn't Kreft tell you to bring Cranston here?"

THERE was trickery behind that query. Gordy hadn't managed to cover it. Where the catch lay was a question in itself, one that The Shadow couldn't analyze at a moment's notice.

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