"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 027 - The Silent Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

THE three witnesses to the rare spectacle of The Shadow at work were totally unacquainted with the
methods of the black-clad rescuer. Even Larry Ricordo, hardened denizen of the underworld, knew but
little of The Shadow's ways. Hence the rising motion of the black-cloaked form, the passage of the
gloved hands toward the garment that shrouded the shoulders beneath; even the quick pirouette of the
figure itselfтАФwere all accepted by the viewers as token of The Shadow's unpreparedness.

But, within the studio where doom had failed to strike, The Shadow was acting with instinctive practice.
Although unaware that hidden eyes were observing him, The Shadow, master of desperate situations,
had not allowed his interest in Alfred Sartain's recovery to reduce his normal vigilance.

When he had suddenly stepped away from the reviving millionaire, it had been because his keen ears had
heard a slight sound at the doorway of the studio. The momentary pause had enabled him to detect the
turning of the knob. The motion of his hands toward his body was the beginning of the swift method
whereby The Shadow encountered foes who sought to catch him off guard.

As the black form whirled to face the door, those gloved hands swept free from the folds of the cloak.
As The Shadow's eyes stared directly at the portal, the firm fists beneath them were gripping the
powerful automatics with which The Shadow warred against fiends of crime.

The action was a timely one. Simultaneously with The Shadow's swing, the door came inward, and a pair
of villainous gangsters plunged into the room. Each of Slips Harbeck's gorillas held a leveled revolver.

The gunmen held the first advantage. They were actually in the room before The Shadow faced them. But
they did not know the exact spot where they must attack, so precipitous had their entrance been. They
were forced to swing their gleaming weapons in order to cover their foe.

The Shadow, on the contrary, had a definite objectiveтАФthe doorway. His rapid turn ended in a deadly
aim, whereas the gunmen acted with haste. It was this factor that turned the tide in The Shadow's favor.

Two shots burst from the doorwayтАФeach from a gorilla's revolver. One bullet missed The Shadow by a
foot. The other burned through a waving fold of the black cloakтАФless than an inch from its mark.

A DOUBLE answer came a split second later. As both gunmen sought to deliver a second shot, The
Shadow's automatics roared together. The forward plunging mobsters hurtled to the floor. One sprawled
crazily in a sidewise swing; the other somersaulted almost to The Shadow's feet.

A bursting cry of mirth sounded from The Shadow's unseen lips. No longer concerned with the enemies
whom he had dropped, The Shadow advanced toward the door. His method was slow but constantтАФa
scheme with definite purpose. From the first instant of the attack, The Shadow had kept himself as a
shield for Alfred Sartain, helpless in the chair behind the desk.

Now, seeking to meet new invaders, The Shadow held to the same purpose. Blocking the path from the
doorway, he gave no hidden enemy an opportunity to complete the job which had failedтАФthe murder of
the hapless millionaire.
Keen eyes glistened. The Shadow's right-hand automatic roared another greeting. A scream came from
beyond the doorway. A third gangster, more cautious than his fellows, had thrust forth a hand with a
revolver. The Shadow's prompt response clipped the trigger finger from the hand!

The maimed mobster fled. After him tumbled another who had also kept to cover. The Shadow's guns
barked a stern pursuit.