The Shadow 245 by Maxwell Grant

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

INSIDE the cabin, Mayberry sat down at the fire and chuckled over the farce that he had just staged. Sleeper grinned, and his two dumb-faced helpers suddenly realized that Mayberry did not believe that Bracy was The Shadow. Then Sleeper’s smile faded; from the window, Cranston heard him question Mayberry:

“What was the idea in letting Bracy go?”

“A matter of courtesy, Sleeper,” chuckled Mayberry. “The proper step, under existing circumstances. He won’t go far; we shall hear from him in due time.”

“We can’t let him go far, boss,” Sleeper argued, seriously. “I don’t want to take a rap on account of Klebbert. We need Bracy around, in case I get in a jam.”

Mayberry gave Sleeper a sharp look.

“Flight would only incriminate Bracy,” said Mayberry. “So you have no cause to worry. By the way - why were you prowling so close to Mordant’s, tonight?”

“Well, I just thought -”

“That Bracy might come around?” queried Mayberry. “Well, you were right. He did. You see how little it got you, Sleeper. If you had slugged Bracy too hard, you might have killed him. In that case, the burden of murder would have been transferred to you.”

Shrewdly, Sleeper saw that he had incurred Mayberry’s disapproval. He knew a way to rectify it.

“There was something else,” he added. “I thought I might get a slant at old Mordant, and I did.”

Mayberry’s eyes gleamed with interest.

“He didn’t have his coat on,” continued Sleeper, “but that scarf was wrapped around his neck. I guess that bum throat is bothering him pretty bad.”

A cluck came from Mayberry’s own throat. With a steady look at Sleeper, he inquired:

“Was Mordant wearing the glasses, too?”

“Yeah, he had on the dark specs,” returned Sleeper. “I tell you, boss, if you’d let me go in there, like we planned, I’d get somewhere! Old Mordant is worried -”

“Our plans have changed,” interrupted Mayberry sharply. “That robbery turned too much attention to Mordant, and Klebbert’s death added to the smoke. We must let it blow over; otherwise, people will suspect that there is a fire.”

“But Mordant can’t start trouble -”

“His servants started it tonight. If anyone heard those shotguns, there will be more inquiries. You bungled badly, Sleeper, and that is something I cannot tolerate. Let us forget Mordant until something new develops.”

Mayberry’s note was a final one, and it assured Cranston that he would gain nothing more by staying around the cabin. With an easy tread that fitted his other personality, that of The Shadow, Cranston stepped from the porch and strode rapidly, but silently, out toward the road.

Up ahead, he saw Bracy. The chunky man had stopped a few hundred yards away, and his figure was plain against a dirt slope. Bracy bundled something, and The Shadow saw him fling it into bushes at the side of the road. Thereupon, Bracy strode angrily away.

In Bracy’s car, Cranston waited. He heard Sleeper come out to put his own car away. When its motor started, Cranston started his own, under cover of the noise. On the dirt road, he turned on the lights, focusing them on the spot where Bracy had stopped.

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