The Shadow - 225 - The Star of Delhi by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1941-06-30T22:00:00+00:00

It was well that she did. As Margo waited, one doorway short, she saw a huddling man shift from the adjoining doorstep.

Drawing back, Margo felt quite secure, though annoyed because she couldn’t get closer. This was really a job for The Shadow, and Margo realized it. There was just a chance that luck might come her way -

and it did.

The reason that the lookout had shifted was because a door was opening. Men emerged in a shaft of dim light, and Margo was able to overhear their voices. Not only that, she saw a face exceedingly like the sleek but sallow countenance of Dwig Brencott.

The sleek man spoke.

“A couple of you lugs cruise around,” he said. “The Shadow has got wise to too much, and even when The Shadow learns too little, he knows too much. So keep cruising for a half-hour; then duck out. I’ll call you later.”

As the door closed, Margo worked away. She was trembling during the return trip to the cab, fearing every moment that hands might fling from a doorway and grip her. Straight opposite the cab, she was afraid that some clatter from her high heels might betray her, so she took off her shoes and carried them as she stole across the sidewalk.

In the cab, her nerve returned. She was putting on her shoes again, as she leaned to the front seat and said:

“We’d better start, Shrevvy -“

It was then that a real horror overwhelmed Margo. The cab no longer had a driver!

Sinking back, the girl opened her purse and tried to draw out a small automatic that she had there; but her fingers were gone numb.

Not that Margo was short on nerve; she could take care of herself in a pinch; otherwise, she wouldn’t be working for The Shadow. But the belief that she might first have to rescue Shrevvy from the clinches of a mob was enough to mentally stun her.

Someone bounded into the cab from the street side and took the wheel. Margo caught a grip on the gun and shoved it forward, saying boldly:

“Don’t move!”

A voice answered. It was Moe’s. He thought that Margo meant the cab, not himself.

“O.K.,” he said. “What are they doing? Prowling around?”

“They may be.” Margo slid the gun back into the bag. She was glad Moe hadn’t spied the weapon. “Only they’re in a car - the ones we’ve got to avoid.”

Moe gave a grunt, as though he expected what Margo told him. Then:

“Find out anything?” he asked.

“Dwig is in the hide-away,” replied Margo. “He’ll be there for the next half-hour.”

“Good enough!”

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