"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 094 - Castle of Doom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

The Shadow's order was to go to Liverpool Street. Taking the underground, Harry was soon speeding
on his way. He was confident that he would reach the L.N.E. depot ahead of Geoffrey; he knew also
that he would arrive there before The Shadow, who intended to join him there.

REACHING Liverpool Street, Harry began to watch for incoming cabs. This was a puzzling task, for it
took him several minutes to determine where Geoffrey's taxi might arrive. At last Harry stationed himself
at the right spot and was immediately rewarded. A cab pulled into view and Geoffrey alighted.

The taxi driver must have known streets where fog had thinned, for he had made surprisingly good time
on the journey. Light traffic had unquestionably aided him along his course. So Harry thought as he
followed Geoffrey into the railway station and watched while the young man reclaimed a light but bulky
package from the parcel room.

Geoffrey went back to the cab with Harry following. He put the parcel aboard with his luggage and
spoke to the driver. Then, instead of entering the cab, Geoffrey turned and walked away. For a moment,
Harry stood rooted. Then, resolving upon the only course, he followed.

The taxi driver was ready to pull out. Another cab blocked his passage. He climbed out angrily to start
an argument with its driver. The other driver gave a good-natured guffaw, delivered in cockney fashion.

Geoffrey's cabby could see no joke about the matter. He was about to force a quarrel with the jester
when the other cabby himself brought an end to the forthcoming quarrel. Turning, he happened to see a
tall arrival who had stepped quietly into view at the moment when Geoffrey's cabby had climbed out of
his cab.

"Taxi, gov'nor?" queried the driver of the blocking cab.

A quiet reply in the negative. The tall stranger turned and strolled away in the direction of Houndsditch
Road, the direct path to Aldgate. Quickening his pace to a long, easy stride, he set his lips in a thin, fixed
smile as he fathomed the path of Geoffrey Chiswold.

This arrival at Liverpool Street was The Shadow. Still in the guise of Lamont Cranston, wearing a light
cape and high silk hat, he had covered his evening clothes when he had left the Acropolis Club.

Reaching his goal just before Harry Vincent's departure, The Shadow had divined that the disputant with
the luggage-filled cab was the driver who had brought Geoffrey Chiswold here. He had learned which
way Geoffrey had gone; and he knew that Harry must be on the trail.

AT Aldgate, the eastern limit of the old city, Harry was close upon Geoffrey's heels. He was taking no
chances upon losing his quarry. From Houndsditch Road, Geoffrey turned east into Aldgate High Street,
as Harry had expected. Lights showed him hazily in the fog. A short walk carried Geoffrey to
Whitechapel High Street. There Harry saw the young man hesitate. After a brief pause, Geoffrey
suddenly started into the Whitechapel section.

Once again, Harry was trailing by footsteps; and as he muffled his own tread, he fancied that he caught
slight, scuffling sounds from across the fog-laden street. It seemed as though some heavy, long-pacing
walker was keeping on a line with him.

Geoffrey turned a corner. So did Harry. Geoffrey's pace had quickened. The sound of the footsteps was
decreasing. Harry hurried forward. Through blackened gloom, he caught other sounds, like voices