"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 261 - The Museum Murders" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

dozen in number, they had fresh guns sufficient to turn the tide.

Wolf and his ruffians broke for the gate in keeping with The Shadow's expectations. All was set for a
general roundup, when the sound of sirens formed a converging wail from opposite corners of the front
street. The police cordon was manifesting itself in response to the prolonged outburst of gunnery from the
Argyle's premises. The Shadow's trap was ruined.

Warned that police would block the desired outlet, Wolf Lapine again showed quick headwork. He'd
brought his mob through the Argyle gate, and being still intact, he thought the outfit could survive another
inward trip. Springing right to the center of the walk, he beckoned his cohorts into the brownstone
museum itself!

Harry and others came hurtling through the Pompeian scenery, not without some mishaps around the
swimming pools. Rather than risk having his allies block off his own fire, The Shadow launched on a
short-cut toward the mansion to cut off the crooks and throw them back to the reception committee of
the attendants, which included Harry.
In the doorway, The Shadow saw Croom taking a quick glance out. The blunt-faced man dodged swiftly
from sight, shouting for the reserves - those private dicks who, by The Shadow's calculations, would by
this time be crowding under tables, shoving out the directors already hiding there.

So The Shadow gave no further thought to the interior of the museum. Lunging from beside the
brownstone building wall, he wheeled to meet the rush of Wolf and his thugs, planning to outslug them
and then deliver bullets if sledging tactics didn't stop their surge.

He met them just below the steps and let them carry him upward with their drive, so that he could bash
down from a vantage point against the wild swings of their guns.

Then The Shadow was stopped, hard. Stopped with the halting of the crooks themselves. More, he was
flung downward along with those very foemen as they reeled back from a superior attack, a charge that
carried more weight than The Shadow's!

Fresh fighters were in this strife, battlers who were immune to harm, powerful through their sheer inertia.
Fighters launched by Croom, the dependable protector of the Argyle treasures. They came in a clanging
avalanche, sweeping The Shadow into the wave of crooks before him - a mass of battlers in full armor,
living relics of an ancient past!

CHAPTER III. BROKEN CRIME
IF The Shadow wanted advice on how to end a close-range struggle, he was getting it - a perfect
demonstration. In one swoop, Croom had poured a flood of human tanks into a slugfest to produce
immediate results. The armored men weren't knights of yore, they were the four private detectives acting
on Croom's orders - and the reluctance they'd shown earlier was gone.

These four weren't bringing guns. They didn't need such weapons, considering that they were wearing
mental gauntlets. They swung the mailed fists right and left, flailing heads that could not duck them. And
the results they gained almost included The Shadow, who to them was just another fighter in the crowd
that tried to block their way.

The Shadow had more than once conjectured on the fighting ability of such human ironclads and had
passed the idea by, which was logical enough, considering that a fighter weighted down with armor
would lose in mobility whatever he gained in strength. But Croom had saved the system for an ideal