Shadow 061 - Spoils Of The Shadow 09-01-34, The by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant [Grant, Maxwell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Street and Smith
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

THE SHADOW edged back into darkness. Five minutes passed. Then came a muffled growl. Slug Bracken was boasting to Muff Motter.

“Say” - the words were audible to The Shadow - “this box was a cinch. There’s the piece of junk we want. Lend a hold, Muff. We’ll drag it out.”

A sliding sound; then came the shuffle of feet. The light was out; Slug and Muff were coming past The Shadow’s post, carrying a heavy object between them. Against the dim light of the stairway window. The Shadow could see that they were carrying a small, chairlike throne that was evidently of considerable weight.

Carefully, the two men made their way down the stairs. They reached the doorway below. Thumps were muffled enough to make no great noise. The Shadow had followed to the steps. He paused to stare from the window. He could distinguish the two forms moving toward the hedge.

Once again, The Shadow’s actions had been paradoxical. He had deliberately allowed the two crooks to enter and open Bexler’s vault. He had permitted them to carry away the collector’s most cherished possession, the Persian throne of the boy king!

Why had The Shadow failed to act? Was he heeding Tyrell’s threat? That was a logical answer. For The Shadow, as he descended the stairs, paused by a door that led to a front room. The buzz of voices reached his ears.

Hubert Bexler was entertaining guests in a room on this side of the house. The windows of that room opened directly toward the hedge. Had trouble started in the house, mobsmen could have opened fire with direct aim.

By ignoring the theft of the throne, The Shadow had prevented possible murder. At the same time, he might have acted with certainty. He could have overpowered Slug Brackett and Muff Motter while they were at the door of the vault. Meanwhile, Cliff Marsland could have disposed of the two outside mobsters who thought that he was one of their own ilk.

All had been set for an easy victory on the part of The Shadow and his agent. Quick shots by The Shadow and Cliff would have prevented any attack upon Bexler and his guests. Yet The Shadow, still passive, had preferred to continue his waiting game. He had brought along his automatics only for emergency.

Two cars were easing away from beyond the hedge as The Shadow reached the lawn. He retraced his way to the limousine. He opened the door softly and deposited black garments in the bag. The automatics followed. Stanley, half-asleep behind the wheel, did not hear the door open; nor did he hear it close.

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