The Shadow 110 by Maxwell Grant

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

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. It carried the escaping car on a line beyond the gates; prevented The Shadow from taking new aim until the fleeing machine was out of range.

Alone, The Shadow laughed. He was not disappointed by the car’s escape. The Shadow knew that Zenjora must have gone ahead; that these were mere underlings left in reserve. The sooner the news of The Shadow’s fight reached the supercrook, the better it would be. The Shadow could foresee what Zenjora’s next step would be. It was one that suited The Shadow’s plans.

Passing through the gates, The Shadow headed for the old mansion. He reached the house, kept onward and arrived at the mausoleum. There, he made a brief inspection; he carried away the sledge hammer that he had left. Going to the rear of the white-walled building, he found the spot where he had drilled the air hole into the vault. The Shadow covered all traces of the work after he had drawn the six-foot pipe from the ground. Carrying odd lengths of pipe, he returned to the toolhouse and stacked the articles there.

Waiting under the shelter of the toolhouse roof, The Shadow listened for tokens of an approach. Time passed slowly amid the drizzle; yet The Shadow scarcely moved from his position. After an hour, he heard a stealthy, creeping sound from a spot close by. Silently, The Shadow moved through the rain.

Ghoulish visitants had arrived; enemies against whom The Shadow did not care to risk a battle under these circumstances. He knew who the stealthy men must be. They were Jibaro headhunters, sent here by Zenjora. Though The Shadow had sensed their presence, he knew that these jungle lurkers could use darkness almost to equal advantage with himself.

Unquestionably, they would be equipped with poisoned shafts. Moreover, they had subtle ways of teamwork. One might purposely risk a sound, in order to bring an enemy to encounter him. Another would be lurking, ready for his prey. The Shadow could not tell how many of Zenjora’s strange tribesman were present.

Had this been an emergency, The Shadow would have chanced battle despite the odds against him.

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