The Shadow 059 The Crime Master by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant [Grant, Maxwell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1934-07-31T22:00:00+00:00

Apparently, the Fergis Building had entrances only in the front. Old, but well-built, it was set between a smaller and more ancient office building on the left; a low garage on the right. The strongroom was built against the left wall. Narrow and with open stairway from ground floor to the top - the tenth - the Fergis Building was the type of structure in which any sound could be heard.

Could The Crime Master’s workers enter from the front? The Shadow had done so; but crews of marauders would surely encounter trouble. The Shadow, as he waited, sensed that the unusual was due to occur. Then came evidence - sounds from outside the office.

MUFFLED clicks. The noise of chipping stones. Softly, The Shadow stole to the outer door. He peered through a crack; he saw the results of what he had heard.

At the end of the hallway - from the side where the other office building was located - pieces of plaster were breaking from the wall.

A gaping hole was coming. Workers from the other side were finding an easy way into the Fergis Building. The Shadow closed the door of the office. He moved back to the strongroom. He worked upon the locks of the metal door. He entered and closed the barrier behind him.

There was not long to wait. Lurking in total darkness, The Shadow heard slight clicks from the other side. The Crime Master’s men were here. They were trying to break in. They were going to succeed without much difficulty, thanks to The Shadow.

He had loosened the locks to make their progress easy. The Shadow was anxious to lose no time in meeting The Crime Master’s horde. He was ready with a surprise that they could not anticipate.

The door swung open. Creeping men moved forward. Then came a weird sound that chilled them to immobility. With eerie mockery, The Shadow’s laugh burst from the strongroom. Members of the advancing mob halted. A flashlight gleamed from a gangster’s hand. The answer was the thunder of an automatic.

The Shadow had chosen a danger spot. He was opposed to criminals - potential murderers - the flower of The Crime Master’s cohorts. This was no time for parley. Bullets were the arguments that counted.

Tongues of flame spat from The Shadow’s guns, squarely into the ranks of the massed raiders.

Gangsters broke for cover. Leaving their companions sprawling, those in the rear dashed for the outer door of the office. Reaching the hall, they turned to give battle. Until then, they had not fired a shot.

But The Shadow was still prepared. Firing with one hand at the fleeting mobsters, he had yanked the metal door almost shut. A gun wedged in the crack between door and frame, he was ready for those who turned to fire back.

Gangster bullets smashed against the metal door. The Shadow answered, directing each shot toward spots where revolver flashes had shown. Gangsters fell, groaning. The remainder turned in final flight. It was then that The Shadow issued forth.

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