Mox by Maxwell Grant & Walter Gibson

Author:Maxwell Grant & Walter Gibson [Grant, Maxwell & Gibson, Walter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Espionage, Fiction, Thrillers
ISBN: 9780515038767
Amazon: 0515038768
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1933-11-15T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XI. WEIRD VISITORS

AS soon as he had reached the Darport Inn, Clyde Burke made a telephone call. It was not to the Classic office. The call was made to Burbank. Clyde reported his observation of a distorted, long-limbed creature in the neighborhood of Tharbel's home.

The call put Burke off duty. Nevertheless, The Shadow's agent could not shake off the thoughts that the sight of the monstrosity had given him. Clyde Burke, like Joe Cardona, was puzzled by events which had occurred in Darport.

As a matter of routine–serving both The Shadow and the Classic– Burke took a ride in his coupe and rolled past the old house where State police were on guard. His headlights, as they swerved, cut a swath of light across the front of the rambling mansion.

This time, the headlights revealed nothing. Yet they had actually uncovered a figure which Clyde Burke did not see.

After the reporter's car had rolled away, a soft, whispered tone of mockery sounded near the wall of the house. It was the laugh of The Shadow!

The master who solved crime had returned. His invisible shape edged toward the wall. It moved up the stone surface. It reached the window of the living room. One hand–The Shadow's right–raised the sash to form a narrow crevice.

Peering eyes saw the flicker of a fire in the grate. A State policeman was standing in the living room. As The Shadow watched, the officer strode away and went down the corridor.

The window opened farther. The Shadow entered. His sharp gaze turned toward the cupboard in the corner. Sulu's former abode had been opened by searchers. The door was wide; the cupboard was empty.

The Shadow, as he moved toward the corridor, showed the same swift precision that he had exhibited on his first visit to this house. As he sidled toward the wall, his right hand was at the front of his cloak; his left moved– rather slowly–at his side.

The Shadow had evidently recovered from the effects of the knife wound in his left arm, but he was also careful not to use too great effort. He reached the corridor and approached the panels at the side of the wall. The State policeman had gone downstairs.

THE SHADOW tried the panels. He raised one. His flashlight flickered through the long, narrow secret room. The Shadow threw the beams along the thick wall at the left. Then the light turned to the low ceiling just above his head. It remained there.

Returning to the corridor, The Shadow closed the panel. He ran his light along the corridor wall, past the next panel, then to the third. He opened this one. He entered the second secret room–the long, low, narrow chamber which was the counterpart of the first.

Again, the searching rays of the flashlight enabled The Shadow to make a thorough study of this room. A soft laugh resounded as The Shadow stepped back to the corridor and closed the secret panel. Slowly, with measured stride, he covered paces toward the first panel which he had opened.

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