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

witness. In a small, secluded room, a man was seated at a lighted table. He was wearing ear phones; a
lighted switchboard was set before him. The man's back was toward the darkened room. This was
Burbank, contact agent for The Shadow.

Burbank pressed a switch. A light glowed. There was no response. Burbank pulled out the plug. He had
just made a connection over a private wire to The Shadow's sanctum, the mysterious abode where The
Shadow spent many secret hours. The lack of response showed that The Shadow had left the sanctum.

Methodically, Burbank made a regular telephone connection and dialed a number. There was a reply. A
speaker announced that this was the Cobalt Club. Burbank inquired for Mr. Lamont Cranston. Shortly
afterward, an even voice came over the wire:

"Hello. This is Mr. Cranston."

"Burbank speaking," declared The Shadow's agent.

"Report," came Cranston's voice. Burbank relayed Clyde Burke's message. Quietly and methodically, he
conveyed its entire substance. The reply was a final tone:
"Report received."

AT the Cobalt Club, Lamont Cranston stepped from a telephone booth and appeared in the lobby. He
was a tall man, with firm, well-chiseled features. There was something about his faceтАФits inflexibility,
perhapsтАФthat made it appear like a mask superimposed upon the countenance beneath.

Known at the Cobalt Club as a multimillionaire globe-trotter, Lamont Cranston was a notable member.
The Cobalt was one of the most exclusive clubs in New York; to hold prestige there was a sign of real
social importance.

Attired in immaculate evening clothes, Lamont Cranston formed an imposing figure as he stood in silent
meditation. A thin smile had appeared upon his carved lips, his eyes seemed to burn as they stared
toward the outer doorway. The most remarkable feature of this distinctive person wasтАФstrangelyтАФhis
shadow.

Where Cranston's form eclipsed the light from the floor, a long shade appeared. Jet black in hue, it lay in
clear-cut outline; a grotesque shape that terminated in a perfect silhouette!

That splotch of blackness was a symbol. It marked the true identity of this tall personage.

Lamont Cranston was The Shadow! Within a dozen minutes after Clyde Burke had gleaned important
information for his chief, almost before Joe Cardona, in his role of acting inspector, had started for the
Bronx, The Shadow was acquainted with the fact that an unknown dead man had left a message for his
perusal.

In the part that he was playingтАФthat of Lamont Cranston, gentleman of leisureтАФThe Shadow showed
none of the swiftness which so characterized his usual actions when crime was in the wind. Club
members, passing through the hotel lobby, nodded in greeting to Lamont Cranston, as the tall millionaire
stood puffing a cigarette in apparent unconcern. It seemed that Cranston had an appointment with some
one, and intended to keep it.

A MAN of pompous bearing strode into the lobby of the Cobalt Club. His shoulders were erect, his