Shadow 186 - City of Ghosts 11-15-39, 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

MILES suddenly lacked interest to Enwald. He was thinking in terms of a few feet - the distance between himself and the door. Bleary-eyed, he fancied that he had seen the door ease shut, though it was supposed to be locked.

From somewhere outside came the rumble of a car motor; its sound ended abruptly. Dingbat forgot Enwald, sprang to the window and beckoned to Skate.

“It’s the mob, all right,” informed Dingbat, in a whisper. “They knew that Enwald would be here at the hotel. This is where Tony told them to come.”

At that moment, Enwald was thinking in terms other than the mob and Tony Belgo. He had even forgotten Dingbat and Skate. Springing from beside the bureau, Enwald pounced to the door, grabbed the knob and gave it a quick turn.

He yanked. The door flew inward, sprawling the sallow man back upon the floor. Skate and Dingbat heard the noise and wheeled about, tugging guns from their hips. Their throats voice hoarse shouts.

A tall figure occupied the doorway. He was a being cloaked in black. Burning eyes peered above the gloved hand that had discarded its tiny lock-picking instrument for a more formidable object. The muzzle of a .45 automatic waggled back and forth between Skate and Dingbat, holding the two crooks motionless.

The thugs knew that this black-cloaked challenger was no ghost. Well versed in crime, they recognized a superfoe long noted for his skill at tracking down men of evil.

The Shadow!

How crime’s most deadly enemy had traced them to this forgotten town in Florida they couldn’t guess. Vaguely, they connected his arrival with a prowler who had come to the abandoned filling station the night before; but they thought that they had settled that foolhardy wayfarer.

The thugs were loosening their grip, ready to drop their guns, when intervention came in their behalf. Enwald supplied it, for the sallow man, influenced by drink and local legend, actually believed that he was viewing a ghost.

With a crazed shriek, Enwald grabbed a chair; from hands and knees, he threw it madly, defiantly, and with surprising accuracy.

Twisting, The Shadow threw up a warding arm. The chair glanced from his shoulder, but his shift, the duck of his head, gave the illusion that he was staggered.

Momentarily, he had lost his aim toward Dingbat and Skate. Inspired by Enwald’s mistaken bravado, the two surged through the doorway, to grapple with the fighter in black in the hallway. Revolvers spoke, but The Shadow jerked Skate’s gun hand upward, clashed Dingbat’s weapon with his heavy automatic.

Crooks were joined by another fighter, more furious than they. It was Enwald, reeling into the fray, armed with an empty bottle. One against three, The Shadow was engaged in battle that offered a serious problem even if he won it.

Victory would not suffice unless The Shadow kept his presence in Pomelo City undiscovered. Otherwise, The Shadow’s coming campaign would come to naught before he started it.

The Shadow knew - too well!

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