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

Claybourne recognized those timely blockers and bellowed his approval.

"Good work, Gilbin! And you too, Borgand! Hold that thief and we'll take care of him!"

The trouble was, they didn't hold him. Sheff threw a headlock on Johnny that should have clamped him
cold, while Hippo blocked the doorway in big man style. But the pair suddenly became confused as the
skillet crew arrived. They seemed to fear that blows which were meant for Johnny were intended for
them instead. Hippo shoved in through the doorway to ward the clouts from the general direction of
Sheff; who in turn forgot all about holding Johnny in order to protect himself.

Suddenly free, Johnny was out through the doorway which in turn was bottlenecked by Sheff and Hippo,
particularly the latter, as they still couldn't get it through their heads that they were not the targets of the
frying-pans. Arriving in the melee, Claybourne was grabbing the members of the kitchen crew, blaming
them for something they were arguing was not their fault. All this took time, and plenty.

When Claybourne finally forced his way through and reached the rear street, there wasn't a sign of
Johnny Craver. The scene was deserted, except for a pair of tail-lights that twinkled around the corner,
just in time to escape Claybourne's notice; tail-lights with a Connecticut license plate between.

In the front reception hall, Lamont Cranston was strolling around from the elevator, which opened near
the door of Claybourne's smoking room. No longer The Shadow, he had stowed his cloak and hat
conveniently beneath the stairs and was now nodding to Margo Lane as she came down the grand
staircase.

Practically all the other guests had gone and Margo could freely show her relief at seeing Cranston. Left
behind by the rush that had surged to the third floor following the shot-gun fire, Margo had heard the
subsequent clatter down the back stairs and had hoped that it meant that Cranston was still in circulation.

Now knowing that he was, Margo asked ardently:

"What's it all about, Lamont?"

"It's about Johnny," replied Cranston, calmly. "He just tapped Claybourne's safe, up on the third floor."

Margo tilted her head in the direction of the kitchen door on the far side of the staircase.

"And all that noise?"

"More trouble for Johnny. Don't worry. We'll take care of him when he comes out this way."

"But why should he come out this way?"

"You saw him go in, didn't you? Reversing the trail is the usual policy when the going gets hot. Get ready
- here he is."

The door from the kitchen clattered open at Cranston's words, but it wasn't Johnny who appeared.
Instead, Claybourne came storming through, shaking his fists back at a handful of servants who were
trying to explain matters as they followed along. Behind them came two gentlemen named Gilbin and
Borgand, who were brushing themselves off and looking quite as disgruntled as Claybourne.