Shadow 073 - Crooks Go Straight 03-01-34, 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

UP in his study, Perry Delhugh arose to greet his unexpected visitor. The philanthropist, like Jack Targon, was impressed by the appearance of Lamont Cranston. Handshakes were followed by cigars.

While Delhugh took his place behind the desk, Lamont Cranston seated himself in an easy chair and came promptly to the purpose of his visit.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Delhugh,” stated the visitor, in his steady even tone. “I have heard much of your philanthropies. I admire the spirit of them.”

Delhugh bowed in acknowledgment.

“Particularly,” resumed The Shadow, perfect in his role of Cranston, “your ideas in regard to individual betterment. I have heard that you recently befriended two pardoned convicts; that you gave them a new start in life.”

“One of the men just went downstairs,” replied Delhugh. “Perhaps you saw him as he went out.”

“I saw an intelligent-looking chap going -“

“That was Jack Targon. Former swindler. Now a coming advertising man.”

“Remarkable! Let me congratulate you, Mr. Delhugh. You have chosen an excellent type of welfare work.”

“It was a new idea of mine, Mr. Cranston. Somehow” - he paused speculatively - “somehow I have tired of ordinary charities. They are too impersonal. Such as this Talleyrand Hospital Fund. A meritorious undertaking; but a cut-and-dried affair.”

“How so?”

“We ask for funds. We get them. We deliver them. The recipients have no contact with their benefactors.”

“You are chairman of the fund?”

“No. I am the secretary. It is only one of my many philanthropic connections. That reminds me” - Delhugh looked glum - “the fund is going to be short twenty thousand dollars. Well” - he shrugged his shoulders and smiled - “I can make up for that with a contribution of my own.”

“Twenty thousand dollars short?” came The Shadow’s inquiry, in Cranston’s easy inflection.

Delhugh nodded.

“You read of the death of Theobald Luftus?” he questioned. “The murder in the penthouse?”

A nod from The Shadow.

“Luftus had promised us twenty thousand dollars. We were to hear from him to-day. Unfortunately, Theobald Luftus is no longer with us.”

“He was robbed of the funds intended for you?”

“Yes. And possibly of a great deal more. Luftus wrote me a letter saying that he would give us some securities of his own selection. So I fancy that he had other funds on hand.”

“Did you inform the police of this?”

“No. I thought of doing so but after reading tonight’s newspapers, I decided that it would be unnecessary. The police commissioner has stated” - Delhugh referred to a journal on his desk - “that the criminals who rifled the dead man’s safe must have gained at least a hundred thousand dollars.”

“So you would be telling the police something that they already know.”

“Precisely! Moreover” - Delhugh shook his head seriously - “it would be a great mistake to make public the fact that some of those funds were being held for a gift. Many contributors to worthy causes are persons who have hoarded wealth.

“The death of Luftus, as reported, is apt to make hoarders decide to loose their miserly stores. You would be astonished, Mr.

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