"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 166 - Crime Rides The Sea" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

reclaimed by the salvage ship Hercules, at present operating on the
wreck of the freighter Ozark. From said cargo, one item, namely a
chained strong box, is mostly important, and must be held in your
possession pending my further instructions.
Sincerely yours,
HUGH BARVALE

Every letter in that batch dyed Hugh Barvale with the brush that he had
so
completely avoided. Until the present, The Shadow had not found one scrap of
evidence that could prove Barvale as the silent partner in the murderous
activities that had produced several sea disasters, culminating in the loss of
the freighter Ozark.
Visualizing Barvale as a hidden crime master, there was good reason why
Pointer Trame, the actual field general, should retain these important
documents.
Assuming that Barvale and Trame had agreed upon an equal division of
insurance money and other spoils, Trame's only sure way to collect his share
would be through possession of these letters. Properly brought to light, they
would incriminate Barvale without involving Trame.
It looked like the old story of crook mistrusting crook; but behind it,
The Shadow could see another factor. The laugh that eased from his lips was
barely audible. No one could have heard it outside the walls of that cabin.
But The Shadow's wary ears could detect distant sounds and identify them.
He was hearing such tokens as he replaced the Barvale correspondence in its
proper drawer. The sounds were those of footsteps outside the cabin. They
signified that two men were heading in this direction; probably Trame and
Raydorf.
The Shadow's hunch was right.
He was scarcely outside the cabin, when he saw figures descending the
wide
companionway. Their faces were not quite in sight at the moment of The
Shadow's
silent twist into the opposite passage. The Shadow saw them from darkness,
Trame and Raydorf. As soon as they had gone into the cabin, he made for the
companionway.
Along the darkened-rolling decks, he skirted past the wireless room, to
check on any incoming calls. None came during the five minutes that The Shadow
watched. It was time to be getting back to his own cabin, in case the
patroller, making his half-hour round, should decide to peer inside.


FOOTSTEPS were already sneaking toward him when The Shadow edged through
his own doorway. In the darkness of the little cabin, he remained stock-still,
knowing that the patroller would certainly knock before trying to unlock the
door. In that case, The Shadow could use Cranston's voice to inquire who was
there. That would satisfy the patrolling deckhand.
As it happened, the man didn't stop. His paces continued onward in their
methodical fashion. The Shadow reached for the doorknob, intending to step out
again and use the next half hour to look in on Trame and Raydorf.