Shadow 191 - The Getaway Ring 02-01-40, 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 car was threading an intricate course, in and out among the main Jersey highways, using underpasses and bridges to cross them. But Cliff had no trouble along the twisty way. Clicker simply read off the directions and checked them by the car’s speedometer whenever the proper mileage registered.

After some miles in a northerly direction, the route veered to the west, along a secondary highway. Cliff shot a quick look to the passenger beside him. He thought he saw the flicker of a genuine smile upon the disguised lips that Cliff knew were The Shadow’s.

Cliff had guessed things right.

They had reached the original getaway trail - the portion of the route that Speed Kirkel had so often used; the same one that Cal Grosham and others had also followed, upon payment of five thousand dollars.

The first part of the journey had been changed because of recent trouble, but that was the neat feature of the whole arrangement. Fleeing crooks could be steered from Manhattan by whatever way seemed advisable. But, always, they reached the secret maze that traversed the New Jersey hinterlands.

The route chart proved it. No longer did the sheet simply list roads; it carried other information. Pulling along a dirt road, the car reached a fork which Clicker pointed out.

“If we needed a sawbones,” he stated, “we’d go right half a mile. Good stuff, having a croaker listed first in line. I bet Cal dropped some guys off there.”

Having no wounded men in his crew, Clicker ordered Cliff to take the road to the left. After three and six tenths miles, there was a sharp turn to the right. Keen eyes checked the speedometer; then came Clicker’s growl:

“Easy, Cliff. Go left on the road that runs behind the barn. Stop when you get down into the little hollow. Give the lights three blinks. If there’s no result, repeat.”

They reached the hollow. Cliff gave a signal; waited, then repeated it. A flashlight answered from the trees. Soon a stocky man reached the car, bringing a long hose.

“Fill her up,” ordered Click, “and make it snappy!”

The man obeyed. Removing the hose, he stopped by the window, gave a thumbing gesture across his shoulder.

“Only about fifty yards over to the through highway,” he remarked. “Better use the dimmers when the trees thin out. Nobody’s supposed to use this old road.”

“So the sheet says,” returned The Shadow, in Clicker’s harsh tone. “But thanks, anyway, for reminding us.”

The old road veered into the main highway. There, Cliff turned the lights entirely off. White concrete enabled him to coast the car across a downward grade, when traffic was clear. As they struck a dirt road on the other side Cliff flashed the lights again.

After a dozen miles of backwoods journey, they crossed another paved highway. The passengers saw a large lunch stand set back from the main road, against a background of trees. The place was closed, but The Shadow told Cliff to take the road that swung in back of it.

“Climb out,” he ordered, when the car stopped.

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