Shadow 261 - The Museum Murders 01-01-43, 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

CHAPTER XII

THE WAY OF A FRIEND

HARRY’S own flashlight was glowing on his face, but he thought it was Croom’s. Anyway, coming out of his daze wasn’t as bad as the others - not at first. But in his maze of jumbled recollections, Harry recalled that he’d found shorter shrift from Kip’s crowd than from Wolf’s. Maybe Croom would go them both one better, now that he’d defined Harry as a phony.

Still, Croom would probably let Harry talk. Otherwise, Harry wouldn’t be waking up at all. So, with a sickly grin, Harry propped himself into the light, stopping as a face entered the glow. The face wasn’t Croom’s, nor did it belong to anybody that Harry expected to see.

The man in the light, whose hand was juggling the gun from Harry’s pocket, happened to be the frail young chap who had dined at the Hotel Wilbury!

“All right, let’s hear it,” said the light-haired man, quite firmly. “What you’re doing here and why? The whole truth and nothing else. I’m tired of all this mystery!”

Truth seemed as good as anything, so Harry fed it in a minor dose by stating that he belonged at Glenwood Grange. That brought a snort from Harry’s captor, who retorted that he knew as much already. He wanted to know what was going on in the Grange, to which Harry, with a lurking idea that this chap might be teamed with Croom, stated frankly that he was under obligation not to tell. The young man promptly tightened his gun grip.

“Come along, then,” he said. “We’ll talk to the sheriff. Unless you’d prefer the Feds, without a lot of wasted time between.”

Harry was puzzled.

“The Feds?”

“I saw that cash your friend was passing out,” the young man replied. “It’s all over town and it looks good enough to be real. Except that people don’t take over a house like the Grange and begin spending new money on a wholesale basis.”

At that, Harry really laughed. This chap was obviously sincere and he had it all so sure that Croom and Harry were a brace of counterfeiters.

“If I’m wrong, stop me,” the fellow said. “But I still will feel I’m right until I’ve heard a sound reason why you’re stopping at the Grange. Particularly” - he added this with emphasis - “when I already know that you’re contacting an outside crowd, who were here at Lower Glenwood a day before you arrived.”

By Lower Glenwood, the speaker meant the ruins. But the crowd to which he referred could only be Kip’s outfit. This was the sort of information Harry wanted for The Shadow. It would be worthwhile to feed out facts in return for more. Still, Harry was cagey.

“Tell me who you are,” he suggested. “Maybe you’re crooked like you think I am, but you don’t look that way, any more than I do.”

It was a good thrust, even with Harry’s present unkempt appearance. The young chap took it right to heart.

“I’m Phil Glenwood,” he declared soberly. “Last of the family and all that.

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