The Shadow 276 Syndicate of Death by Maxwell Grant

Author:Maxwell Grant [Grant, Maxwell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Street & Smith
Published: 1944-01-31T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER X

WHEN The Shadow lashed into the human tangle, the effect was like a miniature tornado. Under the swing of gun-weighted fists, three men flew apart like puppets. Troy and Kranda landed in opposite corners, wondering what had heaved them there, which left Creep to bear the brunt of The Shadow’s full fury.

With a back-hand swing, The Shadow drove Creep’s gun hand upward carrying it right to the fellow’s chin. The effect was odd, for it happened just as Creep started to pull the trigger. First, the gun popped at the ceiling; next, Creep staggered under the punch from his own fist; finally, the gun dropped from Creep’s loosening hand as he reeled groggily around the room.

Creep still maintained some portion of his scattered wits, for he was groping toward his other hip, as if to draw another gun. Red was reporting this to Brodie who became so excited that he snatched Red away from the cathodoscope and took a look himself.

“The guy is slap-happy!” exclaimed Brodie. “Sure he has another gun, but he’s giving it away! I told him to go heeled with an extra in case he ran into trouble.”

“You mean you counted on Creep fixing The Shadow?”

“Kind of,” snapped Brodie. “Or on The Shadow fixing Creep after Kranda was finished. Only this way it’s all off. If The Shadow croaks Creep, Kranda will still be around to talk!”

It wasn’t all off.

That was just what happened now.

Creep Crawley, crook by trade, was reeling right into The Shadow’s hands. Meanwhile, Jan Kranda, a victim rescued by The Shadow, was stirred with a sudden yen for crime that put gratitude from his mind.

Maybe Kranda didn’t realize he’d been crime’s target. Possibly he wanted to prove that he was good enough to belong to a crooked set-up. Or it might have been that Kranda wanted another crack at Troy and considered The Shadow as an obstacle. Whatever his thoughts, Kranda was never to reveal them.

As the first folly in the chain that led to his doom, Kranda snatched up the gun that Creep had lost.

Kranda’s snarl was the only warning that The Shadow received, but it came in time. About to clutch Creep, The Shadow wheeled to see Kranda charging straight at him brandishing the revolver that he had grabbed from the floor.

With The Shadow’s turn, Kranda started shooting. It wasn’t Kranda’s fault that he didn’t clip The Shadow. Before he could fire another, The Shadow reached him. Up went Kranda’s gun-hand, the muzzle of the weapon spouting flame.

Those bursts of gunfire rallied Creep Crawley. Halting his blind stagger, the crook saw blackness tangled with Kranda. That blackness represented The Shadow, the target that Creep now wanted, but even when the figures twisted, Creep didn’t care. Using his extra gun, Creep jabbed two shots; one for Kranda, the other for The Shadow.

Kranda took both bullets.

Like a man stabbed in the back, Kranda buckled from The Shadow’s clutch. Having lost his human shield, The Shadow did a quick whirl under Creep’s gun and caught the assassin with a twisty drive that hoisted him screaming toward the ceiling.

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