"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 095 - Death Rides the Skyway" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

Gifford Barbridge groaned groggily from his chair. Double-crossers had sprung their trap; and Barbridge
was the victim!

CHAPTER VI. DEATH AT DAWN
"KEEP him covered, Soup. I'm going through the desk."

Foy Zullick gave the order harshly. His suave purr was no longer evident. While "Soup" kept Barbridge
at the gun point, Zullick started his search of the desk. He calmly fished out a stack of correspondence,
went through letters and discovered the ones he wanted.

"These are all that Hylap wrote," sneered Zullick. "Danning slipped me the copies, so I know. Well, old
socks" - he leered at Barbridge - "here goes the evidence, right in my pocket."

Barbridge was staring coldly, though bound. Zullick observed Barbridge's expression. The crook knew
that compromise was useless.

"You've got yourself to blame for this mess, Barbridge," informed Zullick.

The crook's tone was significant. It meant that death could be his only verdict. Barbridge remained
unflinching.

"I wish there was still an out for you," spoke Zullick, resuming his cultivated purr. "Not because I mind
croaking you, Barbridge, because I don't. But nobody's ever going to lay the Hylap job on me. I don't
leave trails. Just the same; it's best to be safe. What do you say, Soup?"

Before the safe cracker could reply, a new sound reached the ears of the three men. It was the distant
whistle of a locomotive, blaring from beyond the bend. The K and R local was approaching Altamont.

A sudden expression showed on Barbridge's face. It was half-hope, half anxiety. Zullick spotted it; his
grin hardened.

"So that's it," he said smoothly. "You still think that maybe I've been bluffing about Hylap? Well, I'm
going to give you a break. I'll wait until that local pulls in. I'll let you see for yourself that Hylap doesn't
show up. Then maybe you won't be so independent. That offer of a million bucks may look good enough
then to take."

Again the whistle. Zullick leered wolfishly. Barbridge remained cold in expression; but Soup Ramsted
began to display anxiety.

"It's mighty close to dawn, Foy," remarked the dynamiter. "The day shift's due to go on inside half an
hour. You're going to put us in a bad spot. I've got some of the night crew all set the way you wanted
them. What's more, daylight ain't going to help us none."

"We'll wait until the local comes in," retorted Zullick, his tone a sudden rasp. "Don't get jittery, Soup.
Barbridge knows the proposition. He'll have about three minutes to make up his mind, after he's sure that
Hylap hasn't come."

BOASTFUL, hardened to crime, Zullick intended to show Barbridge that he had made no bluff
concerning Hylap. The crook's quirk seemed to strengthen his game; not balk it. Actually, the delay was
a timely one - for Barbridge. Rescue was aboard that rattling local. A superfighter had neared his goal.