The Shadow - 110 - Jibaro Death by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1936-09-21T22:00:00+00:00

The Shadow was ready with a brace of reserve automatics. He saw the enemy, by the glare of the roadster’s lights, the moment that Zenjora’s henchmen leaped forth from cover. Before a single foeman could loose a shot, The Shadow opened fire.

Bullets burned through the drizzle, big slugs that found immediate marks. Two of the foemen staggered.

The others forgot the roadster and whipped about to return The Shadow’s fire. The tail-light of the speeding car dwindled into nothingness. Thanks to The Shadow’s timely barrage, Lynn Jefford had run the gantlet.

A car roared forth from farther up the road. It was a sedan that was manned by others of Zenjora’s men.

It was taking up the roadster’s trail - a useless task. Underslung, with widened body, equipped with a gigantic motor, The Shadow’s car could do a hundred miles an hour, when handled by an ordinary driver.

The Shadow knew that Lynn would outdistance the sedan. Within five miles, the chase would be a farce.

Lynn knew the road, for he had driven here.

Gunfire ceased temporarily after the cars had sped away. The slight patter of the drizzle was audible, as crouched men waited tensely. Then came a strident laugh that made this lonely spot seem a haunted place. That mirth arose in long and sinister mockery. The laugh was The Shadow’s; a challenge to the lurkers who sought to locate his position.

In addition to its challenge, The Shadow’s laugh carried other import. It told men of crime that they had been thwarted by The Shadow’s design. The roadster’s easy escape stood as reason for The Shadow’s mirth.

In addition, it conveyed the news that The Shadow himself was here. It gave the impression that the men in the roadster must be agents whom The Shadow had brought with him. Zenjora already knew that The Shadow was in the game. As a result, the master crook would believe that his own men had been trailed by The Shadow. Zenjora would not suspect that Alvarez Rentone and Lynn Jefford were the ones who had actually blazed The Shadow’s path to this lonely terrain.

THE SHADOW’S laugh brought spasmodic shots from foemen. Their fire was wide. No one could have guessed The Shadow’s exact location from the deceptive shudder of his eerie laugh. The shots that Zenjora’s men delivered were as bad for them as boomerangs. Even while their guns echoed, The Shadow returned the barrage. He had targets: the flashes of the revolvers.

Cries sounded as The Shadow clipped foemen in the darkness. There were shouts; scurrying sounds along the road. Shifting his position, The Shadow blazed new bullets; then shifted again. No one returned the fire. Evil henchmen were seeking darkness, anxious to elude the superfighter whom they could not see.

As The Shadow made a circuitous advance, another car suddenly started from a spot beyond the gates.

The Shadow snapped quick shots as he saw the lights come on. The driver zigzagged; his car wallowed through the ditch at the left side of the road.

The maneuver was a lucky one.

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