"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 047 - The Black Falcon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

Rowdy had shot his right hand to the table. There he had grabbed the gleaming revolver which he had
taken from his pocket.

Rowdy was quick with the weapon. His finger found the trigger as his hand gained the gun. While The
Shadow's automatic sounded its terrific roar, Rowdy, his eyes gleaming, came up to fire.

The big shot's eyes bulged as his finger drew against the trigger. A second roar came from the automatic.
With listless finger quivering weakly, Rowdy slumped to the table. His dying gaze caught the glare of The
Shadow's eyes.

The big shot had sealed his own doom. Acting rapidly, he had expected to shoot The Shadow in the
back. Instead, the completion of The Shadow's whirl had ended in the second burst of flame from the
deadly automatic.

Rowdy's hands, sprawling straight across the table, dropped two objects. One, the revolver, fell with a
clatter. The other, the stack of bills, plopped softly. The side that the racketeer had sought to hide was
downward. The Black feather did not show.
With one outward sweep of his free left hand, The Shadow sent the revolver flying from the table. It
clanked against the wall beyond Rowdy Kirshing s crumpled body.

With the return sweep, The Shadow grasped the pile of bound bills. The packet went beneath the folds
of the black cloak. With a quick, sidewise whirl, The Shadow glanced toward the door; then ended back
against the wall, his automatic covering the four men who still cowered in their chairs.

A laugh resounded through the room. With the taunt, The Shadow pressed the light switch. His automatic
barked two warning shots. In the gloom, the four racketeers dived for the shelter beneath the table.

The same swift shots stopped the men outside the gaming room. They dropped to the walls of the outer
room. Drawing guns, they were preparing for an attack. Before they could acquire leadership, their
opportunity was ended.

OUT from the gaming room swept The Shadow. His arrival was both swift and unexpected. With a long,
springing leap, he shot from the blackness of the little room, and in three swift strides gained a spot well
clear from the doorway.

The patrons of the club had chosen the corners near the gaming room. The Shadow, whirling as he came
from cover, was beyond them.

Each gloved fist now held an automatic. Both weapons thundered as The Shadow, with the door to the
gaming room as a center, began to spread his arms.

Screaming men flung themselves prone upon the floor to escape the spraying fire. The Shadow, as he
increased the angle, was taking in every spot along the end walls; as his form moved swiftly backward
toward the outer door, he covered the entire room.

Peering men ducked back into the barroom. At the steel door, The Shadow flung one hand against a
switch. With this action, he extinguished the side lights about the lounging room. Only the slight glow from
the barroom remained; the shape of The Shadow dimmed against the steel barrier.

In his spraying fire, The Shadow had used remarkable strategy. Of a dozen men, three had tried to shoot