The Shadow 095 by Maxwell Grant

The Shadow 095 by Maxwell Grant

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


A TERRIFIC roar sounded; bursting flames rent the night as the bomb exploded. Soup had chucked a pineapple in hope of producing havoc. He succeeded in that effort. The blast completely wrecked the standards and penetrated to the tanks beneath. Like answering echoes came the muffled explosions of stored gasoline.

A heavier blast shivered upward. With it, the ground shook as the vacated service station was hoisted into fragments. Flames roared upward as gallons of spattered gasoline produced a holocaust. Huge flames threw their glare along a mile stretch of highway.

Joe Cardona took to the meadow, fleeing from the scorching edge of the embankment. Beside him ran the attendant who had dived for shelter. Over beyond was Caulkens, scrambling to his feet and getting away across the softened ground. Long lines of automobiles had halted, all far enough away for safety.

The stretch of highway in front of the filling station was completely deserted; and luckily so. It was covered with pools of spreading fuel that had ignited to form sheets of rising flame.

Up ahead, continuing its path from New York, was the second touring car commanded by Soup Ramsted. The stopping of traffic had given the crew an open path along the right side of the highway. Joe Cardona fumed as he clutched his useless revolver, while he stared at that speeding car a half a mile away.

Then, from the side of the highway, came the grind of a starting car. Joe Cardona stared as he saw a coupe leap forward from the shoulder of the road, to cut in front of halted traffic. It was on the near side of the burning filling station; Cardona gasped in amazement as he saw the car dart forward toward the flames.

The Shadow! He was taking up the chase. In that pursuit, he was risking death. The coupe sped forward in silent second; it had attained a speed of forty miles an hour as it shot into the scorching sector of the highway.

Broad pools of flaming gasoline seemed like living things as they flared up in challenge. The coupe drove into the blaze; for a moment it was enveloped by a furnace of furious fire. Then it emerged, still speeding, beyond the roaring sheets of burning fuel. The Shadow had run the gantlet of the mighty conflagration. He was on the trail of evildoers, his objective that car that carried the second band of malefactors.

Devouring flames died down; the spattered fuel had been rapidly consumed. Still, the fire resembled a living thing; its flaring tongues might well have been acknowledging defeat in their effort to thwart The Shadow’s chase. Up ahead, the coupe was driving along beneath the subsiding glare, cutting down the space between The Shadow and the men whom he sought to stop.



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