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

"You may announce me to Mr. Hylap," stated Crofton. "And when you do so, Sowbry, you can explain
what has happened here.

"Indeed I shall, sir," returned Sowbry, waddling toward the door.

Crofton stepped forward as Sowbry opened the door. He saw the servant enter a small, lighted study
room. Crofton followed to the threshold. He heard a puzzled gasp from Sowbry. The servant was
looking all about. Crofton did the same. His face, too, showed perplexity, far Seton Hylap was not in the
study.

"The - the master has gone!" exclaimed Sowbry. "Of course - of course he could have left while I was
not about. But why did Danning say that he was here?"

As if seeking an answer to his query, Sowbry stared past Crofton, toward the spot where Danning had
fallen. A sharp cry was Sowbry's next utterance. Crofton wheeled about; so did Durfee in the hall. They
saw the reason for Sowbry's alarm.

Danning had shown recuperation; coming up from the floor, the treacherous secretary was again showing
fight. Fiercely, he was springing forward to snatch the revolver from Durfee's hand.

MILES CROFTON acted instinctively. He shot his own hand to his pocket and yanked out an automatic
that he had brought with him on this mission. Gun in fist, he sprang forward to intervene.

At that instant, the door from the vestibule burst open. Into the hallway, shoulder to shoulder, came a trio
of huskies who brandished big revolvers. These were the riffraff whom The Shadow's agent had avoided
when be came here. They had heard the bark of the gun.

Crofton stopped short, just outside the door of the study. With one arm, he hurled Sowbry back to
safety. Raising his gun, he shifted as he aimed point-blank for the invaders. Durfee had grappled with
Danning; the chauffeur would have to take care of himself.

Shots roared simultaneously. Wild bullets zipped the plaster of the wall beside Crofton's shoulder.
Leaping invaders were coming forward to overwhelm this lone enemy. Crofton's automatic spoke along
with the revolvers.

One of his quick shots clipped a hoodlum's shoulder, for the invader staggered. But these three were not
all; there were others behind them. The next volley seemed slated to spell Crofton's doom.

Then came a mighty sound from the rear of the long, gloomy hall. It was the fierce cry of a strident mirth;
a proclamation of vengeance that made would-be killers swing with angry snarls. Backing that weird
taunt, blending with its echoes, issued the roars of new guns in the fray. The Shadow had arrived.

Invaders sprawled, firing vainly as they fell. Others dived for the doorway, flinging away guns in their mad
rush for safety. One alone persisted in wild shots toward that evasive, barely visible form. This rogue was
close to Crofton. With a jubilant cry, The Shadow's agent flung himself upon the fiendish raider.

As they sprawled, Crofton drove the gun's muzzle to the fellow's skull. Half groggy, the thug came up for
more, still clutching his revolver. As Crofton gave a grab for the man's wrist, someone sprawled beside
him. It was Durfee, downed by Danning's choking clutch. Hard upon that came Danning himself, fear