The Shadow 002 The Eyes of the Shadow by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant [Grant, Maxwell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1931-06-30T22:00:00+00:00

“Five minutes after eleven,” he said. “It is time for you to start. I can depend upon you, Pedro. When you have done something once, you can always do it well the second time. Go. Remain there. Remember what you see. Tell me all. You will have the pleasure tonight, when you see The Shadow die!”

THE gleam upon Pedro’s dark face revealed his eagerness. The big Mexican’s eyes were widening. His breath hissed as he sucked through his teeth. He thrust the machete beneath his coat. He opened and closed his huge fists. He laughed silently. Then he became calm.

“I thank you, senor,” he said. “I thank you. I go. Now.”

Isaac Coffran rubbed his hands together gleefully as he heard the Mexican’s departing footsteps. He listened as the front door opened. He peered through the opening in the shutter. He saw Pedro walking along the street. He fancied that a shadow on the pavement was moving in pursuit.

Pedro was not thinking of the shadows that surrounded him. The big Mexican had no imagination. His mind dealt with tangible matters as he walked toward the corner.

He was recalling what had occurred a few nights before - how living hands had come through the cellar grating to subdue him as easily as if he had been a child. Pedro did not smile as he reached the corner, yet his teeth were gleaming in the brightness of the street lamp. His expression was one of expected vengeance.

The Mexican turned several corners, finally stopping on a side street before a cigar store. He entered the shop. He purchased two packs of cigarettes, each of a different brand.

He loitered about for several minutes, then, lighting a cigarette, he started for the door. There he hesitated a moment and felt carefully in his pocket as though to make sure that he had something about which he might be anxious. With a satisfied smile he stepped into the street and walked away.

While the big Mexican had been standing in the store, a man sitting in a chair at the rear had risen and entered a telephone booth. Shortly after Pedro’s departure, this man, a stoop-shouldered, crafty-looking fellow, sidled from the door of the tobacco shop.

The man behind the counter saw him go, but did not regard the matter as significant. He knew the fellow as a customer who idled about the shop on various occasions. Had the storekeeper been conversant with the underworld, he would have recognized the man as “Spotter” - one of the strangest characters in the realm of gangland.

Spotter’s claim to fame rested upon his ability to recognize faces and the ease with which he could trail any one whom he might follow. Immediately upon leaving the cigar store he became the least conspicuous person in the street.

He moved stealthily, going from one corner of a building to another, sliding behind lamp-posts, obscuring himself beside empty ash cans. People walked by him without detecting his presence.

Yet with it all, Spotter moved with amazing rapidity.

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