The Shadow 208 City of Fear by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant [Grant, Maxwell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1940-09-30T22:00:00+00:00

“Sure,” Dodd grinned.

His gun was level, but he didn’t fire it. He watched the agonized efforts of his dupe to lift a drooping weapon.

The wounded thug collapsed before he could pull the trigger. Dodd laughed viciously.

“You’re dying, my friend! Too bad! You made a nice try, but your share of the gold is zero! You can carry that pleasant thought to hell with you! I’m going to drive over to Newtown and register at their best hotel, until all this

fuss blows over. Then I’m going to wait for a nice dark night and do some more fast driving.

“When I’m through, a million dollars in gold will rest where I intended all along - right next to a million’s worth of bonds stolen from the Prairie Savings Bank in Western City!”

“You’re not Dodd at all,” the fainting thug got out. “You’re Martin Black!”

“Yell it while you’re dying,” Dodd sneered. “Tell it to the leaves in the trees. Good-by! Give my regards to your pals, when you meet them in hell.”

He drove swiftly away. But the wounded thug didn’t die! Hate kept him alive. He managed to stagger to his feet. Newtown was a long way off, but he didn’t falter. Foot by foot, he covered the way. A mile passed. Another.

Emerging from a leafy clearing to another road, he sprawled headlong. But his collapse was not a real one. The thug was copying the vicious tactics of his master. He had heard the sound of an approaching car.

He waited with closed eyes and an arm doubled beneath him. The driver stopped his car, leaped out and ran to help.

Then the thug’s glaring eyes opened. His hidden hand jerked into view. A gun made a quick, snarling report in the darkness. The motorist fell to the pavement, shot through the stomach.

The thug stole the car. Staggering with weakness, he managed to get behind

the wheel and start the automobile. The killing of an innocent stranger didn’t bother him. All he could think of was the treacherous grin of the bearded Roger

Dodd.

Newtown was the wounded mobbie’s destination.

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