"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 043 - The Crime Clinic" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

had Cardona been that he did not suspect that he had been recognized and trailed.

The detective was laughing gruffly he ascended a pair of dilapidated stairs within the building that he had
entered. He stopped in front of a door on the third floor and gave two short, quick raps; after a pause, he
repeated the double knock.

The door opened, and a peaked, wild-eyed face stared through the crack. A sickly grin appeared upon
the hunted countenance as the door opened farther.

Joe Cardona stepped in. The little, stoop-shouldered man who had admitted him quickly closed and
locked the door.

"Nobody seen you?" he questioned, in a hoarse, frightened voice. "Sure nobody seen you, Joe?"

"Not a chance, Scoffy," returned Cardona, with a grin. "Look - I had my collar up - my hat tilted. I
looked like any other mug on the avenue. Sit down - sit down -"

"Don't stay long, Joe," pleaded the little man as he sank to a tumble-down chair. "I ain't got much to tell
you tonight. I took a big chance, Joe, when I told you to come to this hide-out. Say - if anyone wised
that I was playin' stool -"

"Forget it, Scoffy. You're safe. Let's hear what you've got to tell me."

"It ain't much, Joe" - "Scoffy's" voice was a hoarse whisper - "but it may mean a lot - later on. I just got
the word that The Jackdaw is workin' again."

Scoffy's lips twitched as his beady eyes stared toward Cardona. The little stool pigeon was anxious to
see what effect his words had on the detective. He expected that Cardona would be startled. The
expectation was fulfilled.

Cardona's eyes narrowed. His jaw hardened. His fists tightened. The star detective sat down upon the
only other chair in the dilapidated bedroom and looked firmly at his informant.

"What do you know about The Jackdaw?" he demanded.

"Nothin' at all, Joe," pleaded Scoffy. "Nothin' - honest. I'd blab if I knew who he was -"

"Tell me what you think about him."

"Nothin' you don't know, Joe."

"Tell me, anyway."

"Well," asserted Scoffy, in a confidential tone, "he's a real guy, all right. Everybody knows how he used
to work. He went after swell stuff - jewels - bonds - the kind of swag you'd find in a big banker's
home."

"Alone?"

"Sometimes - an' sometimes with a mob. All dependin' on the lay. Then he scrammed - an' came back.