"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 042 - Mox" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

A high window, one of a pair which swung inward on hinges, was partly opened, so a slight draft came
upon Harlew's right shoulder.

As he turned about in his chair, Harlew leaned toward the window. He rose slightly to reach the level of
the sill. He listened intently, then peered out into the night.

Blackness dominated the vicinity. The room, three stories up, was above the level of the low houses on
the other side of the street. In the distance, beyond the area of taller houses several blocks away, hung
the dull glow of a great metropolis.

To any one familiar with New York City, that illumination and the direction from which it appeared,
would have been sufficient to locate the spot where Schuyler Harlew was now situated. The house which
contained this little room was located somewhere in the upper section of New York CityтАФthe Bronx.

Satisfied that no strange sound from outside might be a warning, Schuyler Harlew turned back to his
desk. He held the pen more firmly. Beneath the line which revealed his name he wrote these startling
words:

To be delivered to The Shadow.

As before, Harlew rested back in his chair. On this occasion, his lips ceased twitching. Their restlessness
was replaced with a smile of satisfaction. The writing of that name, The Shadow, brought confidence to
the nervous man.

THE SHADOW!

Known everywhere as a superbeing who battled against fiends of crime, he was one to whom those who
knew of evil deeds could turn. A grim avenger, who stalked forth upon his missions enshrouded by night
itself, The Shadow was always prepared to throw his might in favor of those whom danger threatened.

No one knew The Shadow's real identity. No one knew where The Shadow could be reached. But
Schuyler Harlew seemed satisfied that The Shadow, with all the power at his command, would certainly
learn of this message, should it fall into the hands of any other than enemies.

Why not? Everything seemed possible to The Shadow. Millions knew his voice, for it had been
broadcast. His exploits were legend. His raconteur had told the world of amazing episodes in the career
of this master battler against crime.

Criminologists had stated that The Shadow, marvel of darkness, was, in himself, the great controlling
agent who entered the endless war between crime and justice. When the depredations of evildoers
seemed to outweigh the strength of the police, The Shadow was invariably thrust into the balance, upon
the side of the law.

The Shadow might be anywhere; at times, he seemed to be everywhere. He scented crime of insidious
purpose with the instinct of a bloodhound. He arrived at scenes where crime threatened with the speed of
a hurricane. He struck with the power of a giant. A lone wolf who battled crime, his hand never failed.

Schuyler Harlew had considered these facts. To him, as he began to write, it seemed positive that the
message would reach The Shadow. Imbued with confidence, Harlew began a rapid scrawl underneath
the heading of his statement.