Shadow 229 - Gems of Jeopardy 09-01-41, The by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant [Grant, Maxwell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Street and Smith
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

TWIN .45s gleamed in black-gloved hands. Keech’s mobsmen whirled as they saw themselves menaced from front and rear. Two of them tried to swing their artillery on the masked criminal perched outside the opened window. The third thug fired toward the black-cloaked figure of The Shadow.

Flame leaped from The Shadow’s .45s.

The thug who had faced The Shadow pitched to the floor. Bullets from The Shadow’s other gun whizzed toward the masked killer on the window sill.

Mr. X had fired, too. His gun was aimed directly at the bound body of Vincent. His shot and the roar of The Shadow’s second gun made almost a single explosion. But there was a split second’s difference in the speed with which those slugs were released.

The Shadow’s bullet struck the gun of the masked man as it flamed.

Deflected, the slug intended for Harry missed its target.

The Shadow leaped forward, firing as he advanced.

Bullets pierced his hat and tugged at his cloak. But he was like a black wraith as he darted about the room. He seemed to attack from all quarters at once.

Frankie Keech was nowhere to be seen. A smart rat, Keech was taking no chances on death. One instant, he was crouched near the open safe from which he had taken the cash to pay off Vincent. The next instant, he had vanished.

The masked killer on the window sill was gone, too. He had flung himself backward into empty air. The rope to which he was holding swung him away like a plummet. He slid rapidly downward to the pavement of a narrow alley below. He was followed recklessly by one of Frankie Keech’s thugs.

Gunfire echoed in the dark alley. It woke tremendous echoes in the open air. From the street at the alley’s exit came wild shouting. A police whistle blew shrilly.

The Shadow had no opportunity to pursue the masked Mr. X.

More mobsters were boiling into the soundproof chamber. They came from the corridor that led to the private elevator. The Shadow had to retreat as he met this new challenge of blazing guns.

His own .45s blazed in return.

He saw two thugs collapse. Two more flung themselves back into the corridor. Then, with a lithe movement, The Shadow lunged toward the helpless figure of his agent.

A quick slash of a knife cut through Vincent’s bonds. The Shadow clutched at him and flung him across his shoulder. He retreated through the side door that led to the balcony above the stage.

Closing the door swiftly behind him, he stared down.

The murderous battle in the soundproof room above the stage had not been heard. Music from the orchestra was making a loud, savage chant. On a blackened stage a girl in a filmy costume was doing a striptease dance in the flitting white circle of a spotlight.

Invisible from below, The Shadow caught at a dangling stage rope. His voice hissed a stern whisper into the ear of Harry Vincent. Harry clutched tightly at the shoulders of his black-robed rescuer.

The Shadow swung outward from the railing of Keech’s tiny balcony.

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