"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 039 - Road of Crime" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

accounts, the bank tellers resisted the attack."

"Sure," snorted Wolf. "That's what they did - after The Shadow started it. None of them bank guys knew
who began the mess. They grabbed the credit when the cops got there."

"What became of The Shadow?" questioned Furzman.

"How do I know?" retorted Wolf. "He didn't show himself. He must have walked out with some of the
customers. He's a smart guy - The Shadow - I found that out today."

"What do you think of this?" asked the big shot, turning to Graham Wellerton.

"It sounds to me like an alibi," returned the gentleman of crime.

"Yeah?" snarled Wolf. "You think I'm lyin'? I'll fix you -"

"Someone may have caused the trouble," interrupted Graham calmly, "but it couldn't have been The
Shadow."

"Why not?" questioned Wolf.

"Because," Graham responded, looking squarely toward his questioner, "if it had been The Shadow, you
wouldn't have made a get-away without a couple of bullets somewhere in your body."

"Yeah?" Wolf was again indignant. "Well, it was The Shadow right enough - you can ask Pinkey
Doremas if you don't believe me. He was just inside the door when the shots began -"

"Where is Pinkey now?"
"Down in Red Mike's place. He got plugged twice - I had to shove him in the car. I've got a sawbones
down there to look after him - you know, the old doc who's in wrong an' who comes around whenever
we need him."

Graham Wellerton was leaning back in his chair, chuckling merrily. Wolf Daggert stopped short to stare
at him. King Furzman angrily demanded the cause of Graham's merriment.

"Do you want to know why I'm laughing?" questioned Graham. "I'll tell you why, King. Wolf is yellow -
up to his old tricks. He never went into that bank with the mob. He was laying outside and he helped the
only man who managed to get away - Pinkey Doremas - the one nearest the door when the firing
started!"

WOLF'S lips were fidgeting. The peaked face gang leader stared angrily at Graham, then glanced
nervously at King Furzman. At last he spoke, in a wheedling tone.

"I ain't yellow," he pleaded. "I wasn't in the bank - but it wasn't because I'm yellow. You know the
getaway counts, King. That's why I was outside -"

"Wait a minute!" Furzman's exclamation was delivered in a serious tone. "We're getting at something
now. How far down the street were you, Wolf?"

"About a hundred feet," said Wolf reluctantly. "Yeah - just about a hundred feet -"