The Shadow - 10 - Hands in the Dark by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1932-04-30T23:00:00+00:00

“He’s all right,” assured Clarendon. “Wait here. I’ll take care of him.”

The two men went into the hotel. Clarendon reappeared about ten minutes later.

“Mr. Westcott is feeling better,” he said to the chauffeur. “He had a slight attack of indigestion. The doctor is with him now. He is going to stay here overnight.

“He wants you to take the car back to Long Island. Bring his bags and tickets in before eight thirty in the morning.”

“Very well, sir.”

A taxicab had pulled up in front of the limousine. Craig angled the big car backward and forward and swung into the street.

He glanced behind him as he departed. He could see no sign of George Clarendon. The man had disappeared.

THE limousine traveled over the Queensboro Bridge and whirled along a broad highway. The car reached a road that turned off from the highway.

The chauffeur lighted a match and applied it to a cigarette. The car sped along until it approached another road bordered by thick woods.

Far ahead, Craig saw a figure in the glare of the headlights. A man was standing with outstretched arms.

He appeared to be wearing a uniform.

Craig grinned. This part of Long Island was used as a landing place for cargoes from ships. Coast guards, prohibition agents, and local police were constantly on the lookout for bootleggers in large, powerful automobiles.

Craig had been stopped before, but never on this road. He applied the brakes and the big car coasted to a halt.

The waiting man stepped up to the car. His badge glimmered, but his face was lost in darkness. He spoke gruffly as he accosted the chauffeur.

“What you got there?” he demanded.

“Nothing,” replied Craig. “This car belongs to Mr. Westcott, who lives farther up the road.”

“Yeah? Well, we’ll look and see.”

Two forms emerged from the side of the road. The chauffeur could make out the dim shape of an automobile drawn up in a small clearing that extended to one side.

The man with the badge drew an automatic from his coat and held it loosely as he eyed the chauffeur.

Craig heard the door of the limousine open behind him.

“Nobody in here,” came a voice through the darkness.

“No?” The man with the automatic spoke incredulously. “Take a look in there. Make sure there’s nothing in back.”

A man started to enter the car. He turned on his flashlight to illuminate the interior. A sudden exclamation came from his lips.

“Looks like something!” he said. “Something black, on the back seat - Look out! Look out!”

WITH his warning cry came a sharp revolver shot. It startled the chauffeur as well as the man who had stopped him.

Craig turned his head and saw the glint of a revolver. Another shot burst the silence.

The man at the door of the limousine fell into the road.

The leader—he with the badge—uttered an enraged command. Instantly a group of men appeared from beside the road. Craig saw the leader level his automatic. The chauffeur realized that he was the helpless target for the man’s gun.

But before the trigger was drawn, another shot came from the opened door in the back of the car.

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