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

The Shadow reached the elevator with Isabel. It was a quicker route than
the fire-tower, and afforded the only chance to overtake Harry's captors.
Instead of dropping to the ground-floor, The Shadow chose the mezzanine.
He and Isabel hurried along a little balcony, to a stairway that led to a rear
exit from the lobby.
Guns roared suddenly from below. Two policemen had started through the
lobby, to investigate the bottom of the fire-tower. They had run into battle
with outside reserves, posted by Whiz Birsch. The police had dropped back to
cover.
Chaos swept the lobby. People dashed everywhere; some, not realizing
where the shots had come from, poured past the police, to take the exit to the
rear street.
The Shadow drew back upon the stairs, tried to keep Isabel with him.
Before he could grip her arm, she was past the bottom step. The stampede swept
her outside, along with a dozen other gowned women who were guests at the
ball.
Taking the steps upward three at a stride, The Shadow ripped open a
mezzanine window. He jutted two guns toward the alley below, ready to pour
devastating shots at any gunmen who attacked the helpless throng from the
hotel. That intervention was not needed.
Whiz and his pals were in two cars, roaring away to safety. The first
automobile was rounding the corner, out of range, and it was the one wherein
Harry was a prisoner, for The Shadow could see the interior of the second car.
The Shadow did not fire at the trailing band; stopping them would not
help Harry. Moreover, the halting of that car would force its crooked
underworld crew to desperation. Deprived of their getaway, they would have
opened fire upon the fugitives from the hotel.

THE fleeing cars were bucking traffic on the one-way street. Along that
narrow thoroughfare were parked taxis, with their drivers gaping through open
windows. They had come here early, to await passengers from the ball. They
were due for fares sooner than they expected.
Though both carloads of crooks had gone from sight, nobody wanted to stay
around the hotel. Men and women piled for the taxis, entering them in
clusters.
Isabel Rendolf was with one group; The Shadow saw her give a hopeless
glance up toward the mezzanine window. She wanted to stay to talk with her
rescuer, but that was impossible.
A moment later, Isabel was pushed aboard the cab, and it was wheeling
away as part of the caravan.
The Shadow stayed at the window watching the confusion die. He was
analyzing the events that had passed. It was a serious matter, that capture of
Harry Vincent, yet The Shadow could divine its purpose.
He had seen enough, including the crumpled paper on the floor of Harry's
suite, to know that his agent would be safe, no matter how unenjoyable the
predicament might be.
Crooks had been out to capture Harry, otherwise they wouldn't have
carried him away. Isabel--whose name The Shadow did not know--was an
interloper who had marred the plans of Harry's captors. Not wanting her as a
prisoner, they had tried to kill her.