The Shadow 260 The Money Master by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant [Grant, Maxwell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1942-11-30T23:00:00+00:00

In that fateful moment, Cliff and Hawkeye shared the regret that they hadn’t notified Burbank regarding this hide-out. Having figured The Shadow as a prisoner, they’d decided it was useless. Now the absence of their chief convinced them that they’d omitted a most important duty.

Unless rescue arrived shortly, it wouldn’t be of any use. It was just as good to be dead as be rendered permanently whacky by the misuse of a rubber hose.

The first blows came. The room reeled suddenly for Cliff as a crook belted him across the forehead. He could tell from Hawkeye’s expression that his side-kick was feeling the same. Cliff tried to reach his feet, but hands hauled him back. When Harry started up from a bench, he was punched back by another of Shep’s henchmen.

The Shadows agents were taking it in wholesale style. Taking it the hard way, to the jeers of Shep’s tribe, who numbered eight in all. Above those jeers came Shep’s rasped tone:

“So you guys thought you could dish it out. You and who else? Bring on the rest of your bunch and see what happens!”

The prisoners didn’t have to bring anybody on. The next act on the bill supplied its own introduction, using one of Shep’s men for a prologue. The door to the betting room came slashing open so hard that it tilted from its hinges.

What knocked the door loose was Shep’s lookout, the fellow who had admitted Cliff and Hawkeye. He came through catapulted by some unseen force, that he had tried to stem without success.

Shep and his men swung from the prisoners and were drawing guns when the human catapult appeared, in the person of Jericho Druke. Cliff panted for the other agents to grab Shep’s men, but they all reeled as they came to their feet.

They hadn’t a chance to stop any of those guns from aiming Jericho’s way. Nor could the African use his favorite trick of using crooks as missiles against one another. There were too many of Shep’s men.

They’d have to be handled all at once.

So Jericho handled them.

The Shadow’s agents had taken it wholesale, so the turn belonged to Shep’s crew. Never at loss for a suitable weapon, Jericho grabbed the handiest bludgeon available. He had it right in his hands, before a single gun could cover him.

Jericho’s weapon was the door. Having knocked it from its hinges when he chucked the lookout against it, the African didn’t have to waste a moment. In fact, the door was flopping right at him when he took it.

Catching the door by adjacent corners, Jericho swung it like a baseball bat, with a tremendous follow-through. He was swinging in the center of the room and the length of the door, coupled to that of Jericho’s arms, gave him about a ten-foot radius, enough to cover the entire room. In fact, Jericho could have made a clean sweep if he’d tried.

Around came the door, smashing crooks from its path, hurling them headlong to the walls, gaining momentum as Jericho hit his mighty stride.

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