The Swift Revenge of the Green Ghost by Johnston McCulley

Author:Johnston McCulley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Action and Adventure
Publisher: Altus Press

VI: Deadly Peril

Chapter I

Smooth Machinery

HARRY DARSON flinched when he heard the sound, jerked to one side quickly and brought up against the wall, trembling. But his condition at that moment was such that he would have flinched at any slight sound.

He needed the “stuff,” and Matt Lobinger had issued orders against his having it. For some queer reason, Lobinger disliked dope, though he availed himself of the services of men who were its slaves.

There was the sound again! Harry Darson knew what it was—something tapping against the window of the bedchamber. Somebody probably was trying to attract the attention of those inside.

Matt Lobinger and “Grouchy” Bill Weaver were in the living room. Darson was in the bedchamber only because Lobinger had sent him to get a bottle of whiskey out of the closet.

Darson fought himself to control his jumping nerves. His thin nostrils were quivering, his white and sunken cheeks were tinged with pink, his eyes were glittering and his body trembling from head to foot. He inhaled deeply and straightened his shoulders. Somebody tapping at the window—that was all.

His first thought was to rush through the hall to the living room and tell Lobinger. But it might be something so important that there would be danger in delay. Perhaps one of the boys had come up the fire-escape, for reasons of his own, in a hurry to see Lobinger.

The tapping sound at the window was repeated. Darson decided that he would attend to this himself. But he would have sense enough to snap off the lights in the bedchamber first. He went swiftly across the room to the switch and pressed the button, and the lights went out. Then Darson sped to the window and rolled up the shade.

HIS screech rang through the apartment. He whirled to crash against a chair, to hurdle it as it toppled, to spring out into the hall and rush along it wildly, meeting Lobinger and Weaver as he came to the living room door.

“What—” Lobinger began.

“Green Ghost—window—”

“What?” Lobinger cried.

An automatic appeared in his hand, seemingly materializing from nowhere. His short, thick body tensed. Behind him, Grouchy Bill Weaver thrust the frightened Darson roughly aside and brought out his own gun. Lobinger rushed along the hall and into the bedchamber, with Grouchy close behind him.

“WINDOW—fire-escape—” Darson was muttering.

Inside the bedchamber, Lobinger came to a quick stop. Behind him, Weaver made a peculiar sound deep down in his throat.

“Wait, Grouchy!”

The whispered command from Matt Lobinger came just in time. Grouchy was bringing up his gun, to send a fusillade through the window and at what was beyond.

Outside, on the landing of the fire-escape, was the thing which had startled nervous Harry Darson. Faint light came from somewhere to illuminate it—a faint green light that made the thing eerie and spine-tingling. Gleaming eyes, the outline of a skull in luminous paint, what seemed to be a green silk hood pulled over a human head!

“The Green Ghost!” Lobinger muttered.

“Boss, do you suppose he knows—” Weaver began.

“Shut up, you fool!”

“Let me blast him.

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