"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 016 - The Ghost Makers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

laughter!

Chairs fell backward as sitters clambered to the floor. Screams came spontaneously from the lips of
frightened women.

The phosphorescent dagger trembled as though the unseen hand that held it was startled by that
reverberating cry. Then it flashed in a menacing swing, as though seeking a hidden enemy.

As the dagger wavered, something shot out of the darkness and gripped an arm beside the swinging
blade. A loud, harsh oath was uttered.

The dagger was whirling, trying to escape an unknown grasp, as though two mighty, invisible forces were
locked in supernatural conflict!

Now came a vicious curse from another voice. The mocking laughter burst forth in quick staccato as the
dagger rose high above the floor. Amid the laughter came the thud of a falling chairтАФwild cursesтАФthe
fierce sounds of a human struggle in the darkness.

The phosphorescent dagger whirled away in freedom. Striking from above, the blade swept downward
like a dash of meteoric light. Its mission of vengeance ended as the blade was lost in thick darkness.

A terrible scream came from beside the medium's chair. It sounded again, weakly, and ended in a
hideous coughing gasp.

Something thudded heavily, and the glowing handle of the dagger reappeared, poised motionless, only a
foot above the floor.

"Lights! Lights!" came the cry of the medium.

The frantic words were drowned with a new outburst of the demoniac laugh that had brought
consternation to the room. From the walls and ceiling, impish echoes resounded in the blackness. A host
of tiny tongues seemed to be pouring forth a message of sinister doom.

As the taunts died out, the lights came an. Castelle, white-faced, had reached the wall switch. The bright
illumination revealed a startling scene.

THE sitters were scattered about the room all in spots where they had fled for safety. Overturned chairs
bore witness to their mad scramble from the seance circle.

The medium, his sallow face now a reddish purple, was struggling with the ropes that bound him.

Amazing though these sights were, they could not compare with the sight in the center of the room.

There lay the body of Herbert Harvey, face upwardтАФthe handle of a dagger projecting from a spot
above the heart!

The man was deadтАФslain by that mysterious dagger, which no longer shone with phosphorescent light!
While astounded eyes gazed upon the horrible sight, fascinated by the pool of blood that gushed from the
slain form, a weird, uncanny echo sounded from an unknown spot.