"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 008 - The Black Master" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

Two of the automatic turnstiles were open at the right of the entrance to the subway station. A train was
just pulling out. The man was too late to make it.
Fuming, he went through the turnstile. Another man followed and bumped against him. The first man
swung rather angrily; but the other paid no attention to him.

"What's the hurry?" growled the well-dressed man.

The other turned to look at him. But their argument went no further. The underground tube reverberated
with a tremendous explosion that sounded like a mighty cannonade.

The station became a mass of wreckage. Girders were twisted between the tracks. The change booth
was demolished and its occupant was killed. There were half a dozen people entering the southbound
station; not one remained alive!

On the street above, the newsboy's cry of "Big explosions!" came to a sudden end as the urchin was
thrown headlong and his expressive words were drowned by the muffled report that came from below.

People entering the subway staggered back in the face of a vast volume of white smoke that reeked with
fumes of sulphur!

From across the street, terror-stricken persons from the northbound subway station emerged from the
kiosk, shouting frantically for assistance for those who remained below!

Once again some unseen hand had caused doom and destruction! A third terror had come to New York,
and another chain of hideous details was ready for the grinding presses that thrived on death and
tragedy.

The pleasant, open circle on the fringe of Central Park became the headquarters for a group of rescue
workers, while mounted police arrived to drive back the curious thousands who assembled in spite of the
danger which might still exist.

In three hours, terror had gripped Manhattan! Three terrible calamities - each a horrible event in itself -
had occurred at intervals of approximately sixty minutes!

What might happen next was something that no one could venture to foretell. Any spot in busy New
York might become a mass of wreckage, with victims shrieking their misfortune.

Danger lay everywhere, and emergency squads of police could only wait, hopeful that they might be
nearby to lend their aid should another mighty tragedy follow those that had gone before!

CHAPTER II. THE MAN WHO FEARED DEATH
OF all the mad frenzy that gripped New York on that momentous day, none could equal the wild
excitement in the office of the Evening Classic.

In the realm of tabloid newspapers, the Classic led all others in sensationalism. Its reporters were familiar
with all quarters of the underworld. Its photographers stopped at nothing to obtain pictures.

The Classic claimed an inside knowledge of all that went on in New York!