"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 336 - Blackmail Bay" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

will introduce yourself -"
"As a friend of our mutual friend, Lamont Cranston -"
Margo's quick interruption brought an even-toned chuckle from Cranston.
It
carried a touch of The Shadow's subtle mirth that Margo failed to catch. Then
came Cranston's response:
"Definitely, no. I've never even met Judge Kroft. The man who wants you
to
meet him is our mutual friend, Commissioner Ralph Weston. Judge Kroft will
explain the rest."
There was a pause, the type that signified that there was more to follow.
Margo broke it with an abrupt query:
"Anything else, Lamont?"
"Yes," came Cranston's chuckle. "When you reach the lookout, look out."
A click of the receiver told Margo that the call was over.


II
 THE bayliner 'Priscilla' was an antiquated wooden steamer that had long
ago been converted to Diesel power, but still moved in plodding style as it
ploughed its way from Baxter Harbor toward Cobosco Bay. From the high upper
deck abaft the pilot house, Margo Lane watched small craft with sails and
outboard motors scud from the bayliner's course until the 'Priscilla' had the
whole bay to herself. Half an hour of steady plodding brought her to the end
of
a rocky promontory where some fishing sloops were gathering about a pier with
a
weather-beaten sign that said: GOSPORT.
The few houses looked as dilapidated as the pier itself, though, farther
back, the roofs of some cottages showed among the pine woods. The 'Priscilla'
unloaded some crates and boxes but only one passenger came on board, a tall,
lanky man carrying a brief case and, as the 'Priscilla' got under way, he
bobbed up through the companionway from the lower deck and gave a cheery
"Hello" to the half-dozen passengers. Everybody returned the greeting except
Margo and, noting her silence, the man gave an apologetic smile, saying, "I
guess we haven't met before, young lady. My name is Lew Barton."
"And mine," rejoined Margo, "is Margo Lane. This happens to be my first
trip to Spruce Island."
"I thought so." With a long-jawed smile, the man handed Margo a card that
bore the name: LEWIS G. BARTON - INSURANCE. Then, whimsically, he added: "You
see, it's my business to know everybody on Spruce Island, particularly when
they buy property there."
"But I'm only staying for a week -"
"Good enough for a start," decided Barton. "Let's go forward, so I can
show you the sights as we come to them."
The 'Priscilla' was heading straight for what Margo mistook for a small
island until she saw a split in the center.
"Why, it's two islands!" she exclaimed. "And we're going right between
them!"
"They are the Twins," explained Barton, "but usually we swing around