"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 009 - Mobsmen on the Spot" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

the form of a human being came into viewтАФ then it disappeared; a shadowy figure that went back
toward the stairway that led to the ground floor.

Inside the hotel room, two men faced each other amidst a gloomy light. They formed a strange pair, in the
setting of an antiquated sitting room, with its few rickety chairs, and box couch in the corner.
"What's the matter, Ernie?" demanded the tall, rugged man who had been in the room. "What's happened
to you?"

"Nothing, Tim!" Ernie growled in reply. "Nothing that matters! Give me a shot! I want to talk to you!"

Tim led the way to an inner room, leaving the door open.

This room was small. It contained a desk, two chairs, and a safe. On the desk was a typewriter. Beside it
lay a pile of stationery that bore the heading: "Storage Warehouse Security Association."

The man called Ernie reached out as the other poured him a drink of liquor. He swallowed the fluid at a
single gulp.

"Sit down a minute, Tim," he said.

Tim corked the bottle angrily and obeyed. He looked on in amazement while Ernie turned out the light, so
that only the dim glow from the other room remained.

Tim watched while Ernie cautiously raised the blind of the window and peered downward into the
blackness of the alley. Then he lowered the blind and turned on the light.

"What's the lay, Ernie?" demanded Tim.

"If you want to know," growled the visitor, "I'll tell you! The Tim Waldron storage racket took it on the
chin tonight!"

"Yeah?" There was menace in Waldron's tone. "Yeah? What was the matter with Ernie Shires, the guy
that has the tough gorillas?"

"There's nothing the matter with me," retorted Shires. "But when it comes to them gorillas, they're
yoursтАФnot mine! You can have the bunch of 'em at a dime apiece, so far as I'm concerned!"

Waldron leaned back in his chair. His eyebrows narrowed as he threw his cigar butt in a corner and
drew another stogie from his pocket.

For a moment, his eyes were menacing; then his voice became smooth.

"Spill it, Ernie," he said.

SHIRES looked at him suspiciously. He walked across the room and leaned against the wall. The
paleness had gone from his face. The hardness of his features was more pronounced.

"Before you begin," said Waldron quietly, "I'd better remind you what I told you to-night. Remember?
I've been paying you one grand a week, waiting for something where I'd need you.