"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 053 - Tower of Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

driver was looking over his shoulder. A fake cabby; he had been deputed to this job; he was awaiting
Dirk Halgan's order.

тАЬAll right, Jake,тАЭ came Dirk's whisper. тАЬGet readyтАФтАЭ

The driver's hand was on the gear shift lever. Then, like a living avalanche, a blackened figure seemed to
spring from the sidewalk. A pair of arms caught Luskin and hurled his form back into the cab. Before
Jake, the gangster driver, could start the taxi, the fighter from the dark was upon him.

тАЬThe Shadow!тАЭ

Jake blurted the name as a swift fist swung toward his jaw. The gloved hand of The Shadow clipped the
fake cab driver on the chin. Flinging himself backward to escape the blow, Jake was lifted clear from the
wheel. Senseless, he went sprawling backward to the street.

Dirk Halgan, jounced back by Luskin's quick return to the cab, was yanking a revolver from his pocket
when he heard Jake's gasp. The gangster's hand came upward. His finger pressed the trigger as he fired
toward the blackness of the front seat.

The shot was wild. As it crashed the windshield, Dirk could see the head and shoulders of The Shadow
by the flame from the revolver. The gangster had fired a foot to the left of his mark. He swung to deliver a
second bullet. It never left his gun.

An automatic thundered within the cab. The Shadow's prompt reply performed its work. Dirk Halgan
slumped sidewise, against the left door of the cab.

A hand from the dark seized Luskin's shoulder and pressed the saved man to the floor of the cab. A
fierce, whispered voice hissed its order:

тАЬStay where you are! You will be safe!тАЭ

In quick seconds of action, The Shadow had nullified the scheme for Luskin's death. Instead of the
doomed man being left upon the sidewalk, an open target for approaching killers, he was lying within the
cab, protected by The Shadow!

The touring car shot up beside the cab. The would-be murderers knew that something had happened.
Two mobsmen bounded to the street as the driver shot the glare of a bull's-eye lantern toward the taxi.

The brilliance showed The Shadow. Leaning from beside the wheel, the master fighter was ready with his
automatics. As the light gleamed, he fired. The driver groaned as the lantern was shattered in his hand.

Mobsters aimed for that spot behind the wheel. The Shadow had dropped away. Bullets riddled the car
body beside the driver's seat. One mobster, circling the rear of the cab, was coming to attack the other
side.

He was the next to meet The Shadow's might. The black-garbed warrior had reached the curb. His
automatic blazed its welcome. The gangster sprawled upon the sidewalk as The Shadow sprang toward
the front of the taxi.

NEW shots from the dark. They were delivered from the front of the cab, from a spot close by the