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

The fleeing men were heading across the living room, The Shadow following. Only one mark offeredтАФan
uncovered shoulder at the farther doorway. The Shadow found it; the man staggered, but kept on.

Beyond the outer door of the penthouse, the fleeing gorillas encountered their chief, Slips Harbeck. He
had sent them into the attack, intending to follow after the first onslaught. For Slips, alone, had heard the
identity of the enemy whom they must meet.

The leader of the gorillas was thrown back by his fleeing henchmen. He could not stop them now. They
had met the menace of The Shadow. They had seen their companions sprawl within the first two seconds
of the battle.

The flight would have proven futile, had The Shadow followed his advantage. But a new duty lay before
the master in black.

Across the room, Duster Brooks was struggling with Hunnefield, the secretary. The false butler was
holding a revolver in his hand; Hunnefield was gripping the wrist below that hand.

Brooks put forth a desperate effort just as The Shadow appeared. He wrested his wrist free, and struck
a fierce blow at Hunnefield's head. Fortunately for the secretary, it was a glancing stroke that failed in its
murderous intent. But as the weapon thudded above his ear, Hunnefield collapsed. He would have fallen,
but for the butler's grasp.

BROOKS was facing the doorway toward the studio. He saw The Shadow. He recognized the menace.
With Hunnefield's body as a shield, he thrust his revolver forth and fired. The swaying of the secretary's
form destroyed the aim. The bullet from the butler's gun whisked the brim of The Shadow's hat and
lodged in the redecorated wall beyond.

Still keeping covered, Brooks thrust the barrel of his revolver under Hunnefield's armpit. Again he sought
to shoot The Shadow.

All the while, the black clad fighter was weaving his way across the room, his burning eyes looking for an
opportunity to clip Brooks without harming Hunnefield. Constantly, The Shadow's gaze roved toward the
outer door.

A revolver muzzle gleamed at that spot. It was handled by Slips Harbeck, who had remained despite the
flight of his crippled minions. One of The Shadow's automatics spokeтАФonceтАФtwiceтАФthrice.

The first bullet splintered the woodwork; the second struck the revolver barrel and sent the weapon
spinning from Slips Harbeck's grasp. The third was delivered to catch any portion of the gangster's body
that might have revealed itself.

But Slips, by amazing good fortune, had managed to stagger back. Fearing that The Shadow was coming
his way, he took the last shot as a sign of sure doom, should he remain. Staggering from dread, the leader
of the defeated gorillas dashed madly toward the stairs.

Another shot sounded in the living room. Duster Brooks, nerviest of the evil crew, had hoped to get The
Shadow this time. His second shot, like the first, went wide. With the burden of Hunnefield's protecting
form, the false butler could not gain certain aim toward that elusive form of black.