"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 302 - Crime Over Casco" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

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New York City was taking the final lash of the sidewinds from a tropical hurricane that was
now aimed for Nova Scotia and the Newfoundland Banks. The rain was now descending in
a sweeping sheet that had already flooded half the subways. It was due for a let-up soon and
until then, all vehicles had left the streets.

At least all vehicles but one.
A taxicab was waiting under the shelter of an old elevated structure. It was into this cab that
The Shadow stepped. No need to speak to Shrevvy, the driver. The slam of the door
amounted to an order.
Through the torrential rain, the taxicab set out for LaGuardia field.

At the airport, a plane was waiting in the hanger. Shrugging mechanics were standing by,
wondering why they were needed. This ship had been kept ready for a mission that
apparently had been abandoned.
Someone was wanted to fly out to sea, find the hurricane's center and bring back a report on
his observations, provided that the reconnaissance plane returned at all. Probably the storm
center would bounce it like something flung against a fly-wheel, and allow the pilot, at best, a
chance for a forced landing somewhere along the coast of Maine.

So far there had been no takers. It seemed that the mission was off.
And then, as though making a forced landing of its own, Shrevvy's cab arrived and
disgorged its passenger. The mechanics stared at the man with the satchel who strode into
the hanger. Then, as he shook back the collar of his raincoat, the man's face was
recognized.

A mechanic spoke the awed recognition:
"Kent Allard!"
He was a legend, Kent Allard, the intrepid aviator who some years ago had disappeared on
a flight to South America, to turn up later as the chief of a tribe of Xinca Indians in Yucatan.
He had been given a huge reception on his return to New York and since then had
disappeared into obscurity.

The reason was that he preferred for practical purposes to appear as a gentleman named
Lamont Cranston, friend of the police commissioner, and man-about-town. But that was a
quiet secret between Kent Allard and his other self, The Shadow.

Now, as Allard, The Shadow was asserting a right that was truly his, that of undertaking an
air mission worthy of his reputation. Allard, the man who had proved he could return from
oblivion, was Candidate Number One when it came to an enterprise that was to test a
hurricane's mettle.

One hour later, the first stage of Allard's adventure was behind him.
Piloting the reconnaissance plane, this ace of adventurers was flying into the great black
wall that girdled the slow-moving storm center of the monstrous hurricane. Tossed like a
leaf, the stout ship was preparing for the giant fling that would toss it to an inevitable forced
landing.

Except that Kent Allard had already picked the location where that leaf would land. That spot