"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 275 - The Crystal Skull" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

A moment later, a buzzer announced Wade's secretary. Recognizing the proper signal, Wade stepped to
the door, unbolted it, and admitted a meek-faced man who tendered him a calling card. Wade read the
name:

J. M. THORNTON

Stepping to the desk, Wade reached into the drawer as though to bring out the crystal skull. Then,
hesitating because of the secretary's presence, Wade dropped the calling card into the desk drawer.
Gesturing to the door that the secretary had entered, Wade ordered:

"Ask Thornton to wait in the little reception room. I am expecting other visitors and I must talk to them
first."

Hardly had the secretary gone, when Wade reached into the desk and brought out both the calling card
and the crystal skull. Holding the card beneath the skull, Wade studied it through the crystal. With a smile
that again revealed the evil in his nature, Wade replaced the objects in the drawer, just as a musical chime
announced the visitors he expected.

Usually, Wade would have bolted the door by which the secretary had left. Not only did he neglect that
precaution on this occasion, he actually left the door a trifle ajar. Then stepping to the main door that led
into his living room, Wade unlocked it. Opening the door he gave a welcoming gesture to two gentlemen
who were just about to seat themselves in easy-chairs. Wade's face was genial, his booming tone
well-modulated as he invited them into his office.

Wade knew these visitors well.

One was Artemus Glenfield; he was middle-aged, baldish and quite portly. Usually Glenfield was jolly, in
keeping with his type, since he was rated as a millionaire. But today, Glenfield looked troubled and
Wade knew why.

The other man was Lamont Cranston, also a millionaire, but never a man of moods. It was impossible to
guess Cranston's thoughts by studying his features. Always his face was impassive; in the sunlight it
seemed masklike. Even his eyes were changeless, though they gained a probing power when they fixed
steadily on anyone.

"You're early, Glenfield," boomed Wade, cheerily. "Our meeting is not until nine o'clock. That is when we
shall arrange to view the Amsterdam collection."

"I know." Glenfield gave a nod. "But I've already paid my share toward buying that collection. I'm
beginning to get worried, Wade."

With a broad smile, Wade reached into the desk drawer. Taking special care not to disturb other objects
there, he brought out a batch of official-looking papers.

"You've already seen these, Glenfield," reminded Wade indulgently. "But perhaps you'd like to look at
them again, the affidavits and certificates proving that the Amsterdam collection was placed in storage
immediately after it was unloaded."

Nodding slowly, Glenfield turned to Cranston as though the latter was his adviser on the question.
Wade's shrewd eyes were quick to take in the situation. Coolly, he said: