"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 153 - Murder For Sale" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

downward swing.
Whiz didn't wait. Hearing the clatter of a distant elevator, he told his
one remaining helper to make for the fire-tower. They headed there, lugging
Harry with them. Meanwhile, Keezer was looking downward at Isabel's tense
face. He had no qualms about marring such beauty with a devastating gun blow.
Isabel, however, wasn't anxious for a facial treatment of the sort that Keezer
offered.
The girl bobbed her head; she managed to fire her puny gun. A bullet
whined past Keezer's ear; although the shot was ineffective, it helped. Keezer
shifted instinctively, and put himself into a position that another marksman
had awaited.
From the doorway of the bedroom, The Shadow had kept Keezer covered
during that brief grapple. Since Isabel blocked his aim, The Shadow had
withheld his fire until the final instant, hoping for better opportunity. He
had it at present, with plenty of space to spare.
A big gun spoke. Keezer dropped Isabel, let his own gun fall. Howling,
the crook staggered for the hallway, voicing that the dame had clipped him in
the arm. Keezer hadn't even guessed where the shot had actually come from.
The Shadow let Keezer go, knowing that he would overtake Whiz and thereby
delay progress on the fire-tower. Reaching Isabel, The Shadow whispered for
the girl to follow him.
Wonderingly, Isabel nodded that she would. But the moment that The Shadow
stepped out into the hallway, he was met by unexpected opposition.
Keezer had reached the fire-tower. From the other direction came a trio
of hotel employees, accompanied by a pair of uniformed policemen. The cops had
guns; they aimed for The Shadow. He bobbed back into the room before they
arrived.
Slamming the door, The Shadow sprang across to the bedroom and turned on
the light. Coming back through the living room, he extinguished its lights and
drew Isabel to a corner beside the outer door.
Isabel felt sudden confidence as The Shadow's hand pressed her shoulder.
She obeyed his low whisper for silence.
A pass-key rattled in the door. The barrier flung open; bringing dim
light from the hall. Then, for the first time, Isabel realized The Shadow's
ruse.

THE first thing that the officers saw was the lighted bedroom. There, two
crippled thugs were rising from the floor, bringing up their guns. Their
savage snarls greeted the officers. The police made for them, with a pair of
Hotel employees at their heels.
Guns talked fast, and the officers had the edge. This was battle to
death, and both sides knew it. But the crippled crooks were slowed by the
wounds that The Shadow had given them. In the quick barrage, the thugs were
flattened to the floor, dead, while the officers remained unscathed.
As the invaders reached the bedroom, The Shadow quickly swept Isabel from
the darkened living room, out into the corridor.
There was one outside watcher. He was the elevator operator. He didn't
have a chance to see or remember what followed. The Shadow shoved one hand
against the fellow's chin, gave it an expert, upward thrust. The elevator man
settled to the floor, half dazed.