The Shadow 079 by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

MOE’S cab had rolled southward. It stopped on a secluded street. The Shadow stepped forth into darkness. Over his cloaked shoulder he hoisted the limp form of the prisoner whom Cliff and Hawkeye had gained for him.

Moe waited, motor stopped and lights out, until The Shadow might return. The taxi driver could not sense the direction which The Shadow had taken. It was dark at this portion of the street. Shrouded gloom had blotted out The Shadow’s departure.

LATER came the click of a light switch. A bluish lamp glowed from the corner of a black-walled room. Beneath the flickering rays was a chair; in it, the hunched form of the informant who had become The Shadow’s prisoner.

The Shadow had carried the stunned man to this place. The prisoner was unbound and ungagged, within the walls of The Shadow’s secret sanctum. A pasty, droop-lipped face showed under the glare of the blue lamp. The Shadow’s laugh sounded from darkness beyond the focused spot.

Acquainted with the underworld, The Shadow knew the identity of this prisoner. The pasty-faced man was “Looney” Moken, a dip who had recently done time on Welfare Island after falling into the toils of the pickpocket squad.

Looney had presumably quit his light-fingered practices following his release. His new connection with Togo Mallock was an unusual wrinkle; one that interested The Shadow. He had brought Looney here, believing that the man might give information.

Looney was coming back to life. His lips twitched; his eyes opened. He blinked at the bluish glare and looked uneasy. Then he stared in terror as his ears caught the sound of a taunt from darkness. Looney knew the author of that laugh. The Shadow!

A whispered voice spoke. Its tones made Looney quake. Deep in the chair, the ex-dip licked his lips and tried to speak. His words, when they came, were plaintive.

“Don’t - don’t bump me!” gasped the hunched crook. “I’ll - I’ll squawk! I ain’t in on nothin’ I wantta be in on. Honest! It - it was Togo made me work - Togo Mallock.”

“Speak!” ordered The Shadow, in his sinister whisper. “Tell all you know.”

“I wisht I knowed more than I do,” gulped Looney, his hands shaking as they sought the arms of the chair. “But I don’t know nothin’ much. Nobody knows, except Togo. He gotta holt of me ‘long about nine o’clock tonight.”

“State Togo’s purpose,” came the whispered monotone.

“He wanted me to watch de house where dis guy Powlden lived,” explained Togo. “I didn’t wantta do it; but Togo said if I didn’t, he’d frame me wid de bulls. It woulda been back to de Island for me.

“Togo greased me wid a century. Off a big wad of mazuma he had on him. I didn’t want no century spot, so he gives me a batch of fins instead. Here’s de dough - in my pocket.”

Fumbling, Looney pulled a wad of money from his pocket. Five-dollar bills fluttered to the floor as the dip showed his anxiety to get rid of the incriminating cash.

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