"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 320 - Reign of Terror" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

Then sighing, he opened the refrigerator and began his preparations anew. He got out the eggs, the
butter, the lemon... and for each new object he swore a new and more horrid death on the head of
whoever had interfered with his breakfast.

When they were done, he brought the four new eggs into the other room. Three of them there on his
plate one on the other. He said plaintively, "These didn't turn out as well, they never do the second time.
See what you think of these, Buster. Ordinarily you know, eggs Benedict are made with Canadian
bacon. I like mine with Swiss cheese. See what you think of it and tell me the truth."
Buster ate slowly, lethargically, like a cow munching on its regurgitated cud. When he was through he
wiped his plate clean.

Corre said anxiously, "How do you like them?"

"Not bad." Buster wiped his chin off. "Not bad at all."

"Is that all you can say? I work and slave over a hot stove and that's all you have to say?" Corre worked
himself up. "First that idiot Corbaccio calls up with bad news that ruins not only my appetite but my
eggs... and now... Faugh. I might as well go back to bed. This is going to be one of those days. I can
tell."

The door bell rang. Buster who had merely blinked his eyes when Corre rambled on, got to his feet and
opened the door. It was a messenger boy. He extended a yellow envelope and said, "Sign here."

Buster brought the pad to Corre who was still making petulant noises. He scribbled his initials on the pad.
He said, "Give the boy a half a buck. No, a dime. Why should anyone be happy on such a miserable
day?"

The door closed on the sour face that the messenger boy made. Corre slit the envelope open. He swore
sadly and monotonously. He extended the message to Buster. He said, "This is one of those days. I knew
it."

Buster ran his glazed eyes over the message which looked like jabberwocky. It read, "The ties were the
wrong pattern. Send another set, no bows this time. Farren all frammises." It was signed D.

"Bad, huh?" Buster said.

"Of course. How did the Uncle's men get wind of that shipment? What's going wrong with the
organization?"

Corre said, " 'Farren all frammises,' yipe. That means the boys either got killed or caught. Caught, I guess
or it would have had a double in front of the code. Two men shot by someone and left with Corbaccio,
four men caught by the Feds. Great!"

"We got lots more men," Buster said flatly.

"Sure, but how long can this go on? Besides, Rowley is one of the men who was picked up. He knows
Corbaccio... he might even have smelled out the connection to me."

The fat face squinted off into space. "Rowley better die..." he said softly.