"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 006 - The Death Tower" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

question him regarding Horace Chatham.

"Keep all these theories in the back of your head. Use your own judgment; but I would suggest that your
theme be the subject of Chatham's mental condition at the time he called on the eminent psychoanalyst.

"If all is progressing nicely, you may bring up the question of"тАФ the voice almost whispered its final
wordsтАФ"the purple sapphire."

Clyde Burke was tense for a moment. Then he grinned. It was the greatest assignment he had ever had.
It was like a part in a playтАФ only this was a real drama, with a hidden purpose.

"You can say that you are connected with the Daily Sphere," came Clarendon's suggestion. "Many of
your friends are thereтАФfrom the old Clarion staff."

THE two men descended to the street. As they walked toward Broadway, Clarendon spoke steadily to
his companion, in a low, whispered voice that echoed strangely in Burke's ear.

"To-night is important," were the words. "Remember that, Burke! If you uncover important facts, it will
be the beginning of a desperate struggle.

"There will be dangerтАФbut you are not the man to fear it. Yet danger requires caution.

"Should any strange events develop, you will not see me againтАФ that is, not as George Clarendon.
Instead, you will receive messagesтАФ usually written messages.

"These messages will be written in a special ink, Burke. You will reply in kind. A bottle of the ink is on
your desk, where I placed it.

"Each word in every message will be written backward. You will write your words backward when you
answer.

"Perhaps you are wondering at such a simple code. Yet it serves its purpose; for all messages written
with that ink fade completely away a few minutes after they are exposed to the air."

The men were nearing Broadway. They had reached the fringe of the afternoon crowd. As they turned to
cross the street, Clyde Burke was looking straight ahead, toward the surging traffic. Clarendon's
whispering voice was scarcely audible above the din.

"Leave all replies at the Jonas office," came the final words, "and rememberтАФwhen you receive a
message, read it immediately. For it will fade into nothingness. The words will disappear from your sight,
just as I am disappearingтАФ"

It was less than one second before Burke realized that he was no longer listening to the voice of George
Clarendon. He turned quickly to look at the man beside him. There was no one there.

Burke glanced up and down the street, peering into the faces of the passers-by. Clarendon was gone.
Yet, while Burke stood alone on the curb, his ears caught the sound of a laugh that he remembered.

Burke looked in vain for the author of the laugh. Then he crossed the street, and mingled, still wondering,
with the Broadway throng.