"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 104 - Murder Town" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

MURDER TOWN
Maxwell Grant
This page copyright ┬й 2001 Blackmask Online.
http://www.blackmask.com

? CHAPTER I. THE HUSH OF DOOM
? CHAPTER II. THE D.A. DECIDES
? CHAPTER III. NEW DEATH STRIKES
? CHAPTER IV. THROUGH THE RAIN
? CHAPTER V. TRAILS PART
? CHAPTER VI. WORD DELAYED
? CHAPTER VII. LINKS TO CRIME
? CHAPTER VIII. WORD FROM THE SHADOW
? CHAPTER IX. THE GREEN CAMEO
? CHAPTER X. THE WRONG TRAIL
? CHAPTER XI. THE FULL REPORT
? CHAPTER XII. THE SHADOW'S CLUES
? CHAPTER XIII. TRAILS ARE CROSSED
? CHAPTER XIV. AGENTS ARE ALERT
? CHAPTER XV. THE STAGE SET
? CHAPTER XVI. A VIGIL ENDS
? CHAPTER XVII. THRUSTS FROM THE NIGHT
? CHAPTER XVIII. TRAILS CONVERGE
? CHAPTER XIX. A MURDERER SPEAKS
? CHAPTER XX. THE SHADOW SPEAKS


CHAPTER I. THE HUSH OF DOOM
AN evening throng had filled the pretentious lobby of the Ontranta Hotel. Handshaking,
shoulder-clapping men were everywhere. The big badges that they wore proclaimed them as members of
the Dynamo Club. This was the first night of the organization's State convention. The little city of Ontranta
was host to the out-of-town delegates; and the Ontranta Hotel was serving as convention headquarters.

Two men had stopped at a corner desk, to obtain their badges. Each noted the other; they shook hands.
Both were members of the local Dynamo. One had donned a badge that proclaimed him as "Lynn
Galbray, Realtor." The other's badge identified him as "Josiah Dunlon, Jeweler."

Galbray was a tall, round-featured man whose face carried a perpetual smile. He had an air of affability
that was something of a surface trend. It was good business for Galbray to be a greeter. It helped him sell
real estate; and he thrived on social contacts.

Dunlon, like Galbray, was a man in his forties; but he looked older. His face was serious, his smile slow
and only occasional. Though almost as tall as Galbray, Dunlon looked shorter because of his slight stoop.
His features were long and triangular, from wide forehead down to pointed chin.
"Hello, Dunlon," greeted Galbray. "Glad to see you. Coming up to the penthouse with me?

"To the penthouse?" queried Dunlon. "I thought the banquet was to be held on the twelfth floor?"

"So it is," returned Galbray, "but Rufe Rokestone is having all the local members up to his place
beforehand."