Maxwell Grant - The Shadow 205 by Crime County

Author:Crime County [County, Crime]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-11-14T23:23:44+00:00

The power of that overtaking car reversed the situation. At the wheel was The Shadow, a more daring driver than Bogo, and one who held the edge. His speed, his angle of approach, the bulk of the heavy sedan, were all in the Shadow’s favor. Rather than be swept from the road, Bogo yanked the sedan to the right, away from the threatened farmers.

It was Matt who saw the space to the right, and shouted. Bogo took the grass-covered stretch beside the mill creek. He spied Tharbel’s car, and others, standing dark; the crumbling wall of the old mill beyond. Bogo was jamming the brakes when Matt yelled:

“Swing left!”

Matt mistook the old mill dam for a road across the creek, and Bogo accepted the error. The sedan took a hard swerve, while Matt and two gunmen were blazing wild shots from the windows, which The Shadow answered from his halted limousine. The fray ended with that preliminary volley.

Skidding on the slime that topped the mill dam, the sedan skewed over the edge. Clipped by one of The Shadow’s bullets, Bogo couldn’t hold the wheel; but it mattered little. He had lost control by that time. The sedan wavered as its rear wheel caught the wooden center of the dam; then the framework gave.

Traveling at nearly forty miles an hour, the sedan took a fifteen-foot nose dive to a mass of rocks, carrying the ancient flood gate with it. The sound of a terrific impact was suddenly muffled by the surging roar of the unleashed creek.

WHEN Tharbel and some farmers, coming from the other side of the maddened creek, reached the sedan, they found the wrecked car high upon the rocks. The hood had been driven back into the diver’s seat, the rear shoved up against the turret top.

All four occupants were dead and mangled, their guns scattered about them. Amid the gore, Tharbel found the package which Matt had clutched all through the ride. He opened it, and therewith uncovered the thirty thousand dollars that Matt Felson had intended to share with the crooks under his command.

Other farmers had reached the limousine, to discover that it had no driver. Such a mystery became minor, however, when a car arrived from the direction of the Apersham farm.

The car was one of the farm relics that had gone to look for posse members. It brought back two prisoners, who had been found in the farmhouse.

The men looked paralyzed. They moved stiffly when jogged. Tharbel identified one as Prexy Elthorn, and shook the fellow from his daze.

Questioned whether his companion happened to be Touch Quidden, Prexy finally gave a stupefied nod.

There was a sequel to the wipeout of Matt Felson and his murder crew. A man came stumbling from the path beside the mill, to blink in baffled fashion when farmers turned flashlights in his direction. The arrival was Wade Hosth.

He was carrying his shotgun, but hadn’t used it. He had heard shooting up by the farm, he said, and had started there. Lost halfway, he had returned, attracted by new gunfire near the mill.

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