"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 103 - The Crime Oracle" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

summons of the buzzer. Looking past Squint's shoulder, Chip saw the gray-haired man reach out and
press a switch that was attached to the desk.
That done, the gray-haired man arose. He turned toward the wicket. Hence his direction was away from
the two crooks who were watching him. It was obvious that the gray-haired man had admitted a visitor
from a front door on the avenue. He was going to open the wicket and meet the arrival. But he never
accomplished that mission.

The gray-haired man had stopped long enough to stoop and turn the combination of a small safe directly
beneath the wicket ledge. Chip had not noticed the safe until that moment, for it was obscured in the
blackness beneath the ledge. As the door of the safe swung open, Squint stalked forward. Chip saw a
blackjack wriggling in the hands of his companion.

The gray-haired man heard Squint's approach. He started upward, too late. Squint snapped his wrist in
artful fashion. The blackjack thudded the gray-haired man behind the ear. Chip, bounding forward, saw
the victim succumb. Squint snarled a warning for quiet.

"The white box," he whispered. "A tin one - in the safe! Snag it, Chip! No noise!"

Chip found the box. He turned around to see Squint bending over the motionless body of the gray-haired
man. Withered fingers of the victim's left hand were clutching a small key that the man had drawn from his
pocket. Squint tugged the key from the victim's clutch. It came easily, for the hand had relaxed.

"Out again," whispered Squint, nodding as he saw the white box that Chip exhibited. "Speedy - but no
noise!"

THEY sneaked to the door of the storeroom. As they reached it, they heard a pounding at the wicket.
Some visitor had entered from the front. He was wondering why the wicket was not open.

Squint closed the door from the storeroom side. He polished the knob with a handkerchief. He and Chip
reached the stairway. Together, they shoved the barrier in place. Chip made quick work of replacing the
screws. They hurried down the stairs to the Yellow Parrot.

There, while Squint whispered hoarsely for speed, Chip put back the strip of wood and screwed in the
coat hooks. They made for the outer door.

"Wait!" Squint's whisper stopped Chip. The flashlight glimmered downward. Again, Squint nudged it into
Chip's hand; then used the key to open the white tin box.

A gasp from Chip; a pleased chuckle from Squint. The interior of the tin box was filled with packets of
crisp bank notes.

"Fifty grand!" chortled Squint. "Easy pickings, eh, Chip? Come along. Let's scram. But take it easy when
we get outside."

They made their exit to the street. Squint polished the doorknobs on both sides; but did not bother to
lock the barrier. Tucking the tin box under his coat, he urged Chip toward the nearest street lamp.

"We won't need Koker," whispered Squint. "The Head was right, Chip. It worked just like he expected
it."