"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 033 - The Living Joss" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

proceed."

The old man nodded. At that moment, a servant entered the sun porch and addressed the elderly
individual.

"Doctor Zelka is here, sir."

"Tell him to come in at once."

The reply did not come from the old man. It was made by a middle-aged gentleman seated at his right -
the same one who had made the previous remark. He evidently played the part of Schofield's
spokesman.

All eyes turned toward the door. The middle-aged gentleman arose and went in that direction. The door
opened, and a sallow-faced man entered and bowed to the group as he delivered a smile intended as a
greeting, despite its unpleasant twist.

"You are Doctor Ward Zelka?" questioned the middle-aged man.

"Yes," replied the visitor, extending his hand.

"I am Westley Hartnett," said the middle-aged man. "I am Barton Schofield's attorney. This, Doctor
Zelka, is Mr. Schofield."

He led the visitor to the head of the table, where the old gentleman reached up to shake hands. Hartnett
turned to continue the introduction.

"Blaine Goodall," he said to Zelka. "He is the president of the Huxley Corporation."

Zelka received the handshake of a tall, square-jawed man who had the physique of an athlete.

"And David Moultrie," continued Hartnett.

The visitor clasped hands with a wiry individual whose teeth showed in a wide-lipped grin. David
Moultrie's countenance was chiefly mouth.

Introductions completed, Westley Hartnett conducted Doctor Ward Zelka to the empty chair. Still
standing, the attorney looked about, as though suspicious of eavesdroppers. The drawn blinds reassured
him. He studied the members of this group, as though preparing for an important discussion.

All looked toward Hartnett. Blaine Goodall was thoughtful; David Moultrie grinning. While old Barton
Schofield still sat passively at the head of the table, Doctor Zelka drew a cigarette from his pocket and
inserted it in the end of a short, gold-banded holder.

NO one noticed an imperceptible motion of one window shade. Hands from the outer darkness had
raised the sash. Eyes were peering through a narrow crevice at the bottom of the blind. Unsuspected ears
were listening to this conference.

The Shadow, master of the night, had arrived.