"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 231 - Garden of Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

rest.

As the afternoon cooled, the furnace heat increased, and the pipe did the same. Having reached a
required temperature, the heat fused the special gas container and released its deadly load.

Turning the flashlight upward, The Shadow saw the final clue he needed. There was packing around the
pipe, where it went up through the cellar ceiling, but some of that packing had been removed so that the
gas would filter up through into a space beneath the stairway, where the heater pipe passed.

Once started, the gas must have rapidly permeated the house, which explained why a special
combination of gases had been employed. The gas had to be lighter than air, of penetrating quality, and a
sort that would not vaporize too swiftly.

The electric man had come around one o'clock, but the exact time of his visit didn't matter. The deadly
work would have begun at shortly after four, in any event, because that was when the furnace heat had
increased. A half hour more and Bendleton was dead, along with his servants; while The Shadow,
arriving some time after five, was fortunately too late to experience ill effects from the dissipating gas.

Similarly, Fay Bendleton, who left about four o'clock, had gone too soon to become a victim. Her father
had suggested the early start, so she could drive to Malbray's before darkness settled, and through that
thoughtfulness, Bendleton had saved his daughter's life.

FINISHING his inspection, The Shadow eased out from beneath the pipe on the other side. As he did
his shoulder brushed one of the empty coalbins. He paused suddenly, only half in the light, listening
intently.

He was sure that he heard a slight stir past the whitewashed boards that marked the side of the bin.
Dropping the flashlight beneath his cloak, The Shadow drew an automatic instead.

It would have been easy to deliver a sinister whisper through the cracks of the whitewashed boards and
follow with shots through the flimsy barrier, should his challenge be ignored. But The Shadow hadn't
forgotten that police were outside and that their number would soon be increased.

Shots were something to be reserved for an emergency that hadn't yet arrived. Apparently, someone was
in the coalbin stalking The Shadow, a very foolish policy, considering that stalking was The Shadow's
own art.

Reaching out with his free hand, The Shadow tapped the furnace pipe and produced a clinky sound,
which indicated that he had moved in that direction. Immediately, he crept noiselessly forward, to the
entrance of the bin itself.

His ear close to the boards, The Shadow heard a slight accompanying sound, indicating that his stalker
was also on the move. The next thing was to reach the entrance of the bin, round it, and fling a surprise
attack while the rival prowler was off guard.

The Shadow did just that, with a gusto calculated to bring swift victory.

He was around the corner of the bin door, swinging his gun hand ahead of him, when a crouched figure
lunged upward to meet him. Great brawny hands were lunging for the black-cloaked attacker, coming
more swiftly than The Shadow expected, yet definitely too late.