"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 285 - Fountain of Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

where even sharper wits than Johnny's - like The Shadow's - might encounter complications.

CHAPTER IV
IT was dark across the street from Johnny's hotel and the fact pleased Sheff Gilbin. What didn't please
Sheff was the necessity of being here at all. Particularly, he didn't like having Hippo Borgand along, since
Hippo's build wasn't suited to concealment, even after the forty pounds reduction that he had
manoeuvered at Miami Beach.

"It's all set, I tell you," assured Sheff. "The Brock girl has fallen for it completely. It can't fail."

"But listen, Sheff -"

"Sheffield to you, Mr. Borgand, and don't forget it when we arrive at that reception."

"All right, Sheffield," gruffed Hippo. "Only you can't trust dames, particularly when the dizzy kind."

"What language, Artemus!" Sheff's tone was shocked. "What sort of acquaintances did you cultivate
during your recent vacation?"

"I cultivated the right sort," retorted Hippo, "but there were a lot of others tried to cultivate me. Now
listen, Sheff - Sheffield to you - I've seen this Brock number and she's a blonde. To me, all blondes are
dizzy -"

"And that's the game," put in Sheff. "We're playing on the fact that she's a hypochondriac. That's a better
term than dizzy, so remember it."

With that admonition, Sheff pressed his companion further back into the doorway, as far as the physical
contours of Artemus Borgand, more familiarly Hippo, would allow. Before he could protest, Hippo saw
the reason.

A large, well-polished car had stopped near the hotel and a girl's face was peering from it. Along with the
face, a gloved hand was beckoning to a corner lounger, who came over to the car and stopped there.
The light was good enough for Hippo to identify the girl as Linda Brock, while Sheff was tallying on the
happenings across the way.

"She's giving him a note, all right," undertoned Sheff, "and it looks as though she is handing over some
money with it. There he goes to watch for Craver."

"And the car is staying so she can point him out to the bum," added Hippo. "That's funny, though. I
thought you said the Brock dame had never seen this Johnny guy."

"That's what Shebley said," recalled Sheff. "He's never seen Craver either. We'd better stay, to make
sure this doesn't slip. Meanwhile keep that muffler around your dress collar. Evening clothes don't show
well when you're snooping from a doorway."

Whatever Sheff's qualms, they were due for a sudden ending that came in clock-work style. As a young
man in evening clothes sauntered from the rather shabby hotel, a woman's hand waved from the
limousine, the corner bum took his cue, shambled up and thrust the message into the young man's hand.

Instantly, the limousine was away, so smoothly that it had purred past Johnny Craver before he knew it