The Shadow 225 by Maxwell Grant

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

WHAT she saw, worried Margo. A coupe was jabbing past the same corner, acting very much as if on the cab’s trail. Thoughts of the cruising car rang home to Margo. She exclaimed to Moe:

“They’re following us! Like we followed them!”

Taking a look in the mirror, Moe certified Margo’s statement and sped the cab ahead. He was neatly in advance when he reached the side door of the Metrolite, but he didn’t stop.

Instead, Moe whizzed past, went along the darkened street and swung around the block. He went by so fast, that Margo did not get a look at the hotel’s side door.

A man was lounging there: Lamont Cranston. He not only saw the cab, he observed that a suspicious car was trailing it.

Things happened while those cars were rounding the block. Cranston became a figure in black: The Shadow. He signaled some blinks with a tiny flashlight; they were seen across the street. The Shadow had merged with darkness, away from the hotel door, when Moe’s cab came past again.

This time, Moe slackened, and Margo thought that he intended to stop; but, instead, he kept on. Of course, the trailing coupe slowed when the cab did, but it didn’t resume its speed.

A door yanked open on the driver’s side of the coupe. Something hit the thug and sent him clear across the car into his companion’s lap. Before the other hoodlum could get rid of the burdening driver, his head took a hard jolt, too.

By then, there were three in the car, and the driver was The Shadow. He pulled to the far curb and stepped out. Harry Vincent promptly joined him; The Shadow blinked the flashlight on the faces of the stunned men. Seeing that they would stay put awhile, he turned the car over to Harry, who drove away.

Finishing another tour around the block, Moe stopped at the Metrolite and let Margo out. Very anxiously, she looked back toward the corner, then decided that Moe must have managed to slip the trailing car. Margo went into the hotel, while Moe was looking at a green blink from a flashlight, farther down the street.

Wheeling over, Moe picked up The Shadow and made a brief report. The Shadow ordered a prompt return to Dwig’s hide-out.

“Sorry about Miss Lane,” informed Moe. “She’s expecting to meet Mr. Cranston at the Metrolite.”

“Rather odd,” returned The Shadow. “He didn’t tell her that he would be there.”

“No,” Moe admitted. “But I did.”

“Then Cranston can blame it on you?”

The Shadow’s tone ended with a whispered laugh that carried nothing more significant than the fact that Margo Lane might have a very long wait before she dined with her friend Lamont Cranston.

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