"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 034 - The Silver Scourge" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

THE SILVER SCOURGE
Maxwell Grant
? Maxwell Grant
? CHAPTER I. CRIME BREWS
? CHAPTER II. THE SHADOW HEARS
? CHAPTER III. THE SILK-HAT CROOK
? CHAPTER IV. CROOK MEETS CROOK
? CHAPTER V. THE SHADOW STRIKES
? CHAPTER VI. THE DOUBLE CROSS
? CHAPTER VII. MARQUETTE STRIKES A TRAIL
? CHAPTER VIII. A RARE BIRD FLIES
? CHAPTER IX. AT NEW AVALON
? CHAPTER X. HARRY FINDS HIS MAN
? CHAPTER XI. KENDALL GIVES ORDERS
? CHAPTER XII. CROOKS CONFER
? CHAPTER XIII. MARQUETTE SEEKS AID
? CHAPTER XIV. THE GIVE-AWAY
? CHAPTER XV. THE HAND OF CRIME
? CHAPTER XVI. THE SECOND STROKE
? CHAPTER XVII. THE PENALTY OF CRIME
? CHAPTER XVIII. THE GOVERNOR'S PARDON
? CHAPTER XIX. AT THE DEATH HOUSE
? CHAPTER XX. AFTER DEATH
? CHAPTER XXI. THE SHADOW'S MESSAGE
? CHAPTER XXII. FIENDS AT BAY
? CHAPTER XXIII. THE LAW OF THE SHADOW

CHAPTER I. CRIME BREWS
THE lobby of the old Hotel Spartan had more than its usual quota of loungers to-night. Cliff Marsland
noted that fact as he sat in one of the broken-down easy-chairs, and carelessly studied the faces of the
others who were present.

To Cliff Marsland, it was evident that crime was brewing. A man of keen intuition, Cliff could scent such
indications. His business here was to watch for them. A week's residence in this dilapidated hotel had
finally brought results.

The loungers in the lobby could see Cliff Marsland as well as he could see them, but his presence excited
no comment on their part. They took Cliff for what he pretended to be - a mobster de luxe, one who was
in the money.

Cliff Marsland's face was different from the usual gangland physiognomy. He possessed firm and
well-molded features. His light hair and flashing blue eyes gave him the look of an athlete rather than a
gangster.

It was Cliff's square jaw and his poker-face expression which earned him the respect of the hoodlums
who frequented this place. Cliff Marsland looked dangerous, and he minded his own business. Those
two qualities placed him among gangdom's elite.

Cliff Marsland was the type of man whom one would expect to find living at the Hotel Spartan. This
decrepit lobby, where the dull rumble of the elevated constantly penetrated from the front street, was a