"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 056 - The Crime Crypt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

Then came a sudden rigidity. Martin Havelock's changing appearance froze. His face, half fiendish, half
friendly, was caught in the midst of its transformation. A chuckle from the doorway. Instinctively,
Havelock wheeled.

With staring eyes, the young man gazed into the muzzle of a glistening revolver. The gun was in the hand
of Cecil Armsbury. The stoop-shouldered old man, his lips spread in a gloating grin, had returned with
stealthy tread.

Cecil Armsbury had trapped his treacherous nephew in the act of preparing certain murder!

CHAPTER II. CROOKS OF A KIND
MARTIN HAVELOCK made no move as he stared into the muzzle of his uncle's gun. The young man
knew that he was caught; and in the face beyond that revolver, he saw no mercy. Cecil Armsbury, like
his nephew, had undergone a change. The placid face of the old man had become the countenance of a
fiend.

Again the chuckle. Havelock paled. He thought that he had previously deceived his uncle. Now he knew
that he was the one who had been fooled. There was something monstrous in Armsbury's evil gloat.

"Sit down."

The command was accompanied by a gesture of the revolver. Martin Havelock obeyed. Cecil Armsbury
pocketed his revolver, taking it for granted that his nephew was unarmed. The old man strode across the
room, showing unusual agility in his paces. With a cackling laugh, he picked up the glass of medicine and
drank it at a single draught. He set down the glass with a thump.

"Harmless," he chuckled. "White tablets of sugar. A little bit of by-play performed by Calhoun at my
order. It deceived you - as I expected. Well - what do you have to say, Martin?"

"Nothing very much," returned the nephew, in a tone which showed a resumption of his indifferent
attitude. "I suppose this changes the will. That's all."

"The law can deal with you."

"Hardly. You have drunk the evidence."

"A clever thought." The old man chuckled. "Well, Martin, I have put you to the test. You played for thirty
thousand dollars - perhaps forty - and you lost."

Martin Havelock merely smiled sourly and shrugged his shoulders. He did not feel concerned by his
uncle's malicious glare. Cecil Armsbury laughed.

"Thirty thousand. Quite a loss, Martin. Not much to a man who owns large interests in Hidalgo silver
mines, perhaps. But to a man who merely pretends to own such wealth -"

Martin Havelock stared at his uncle; paused. The old man drew a large envelope from his pocket.

"This contains the documents that I promised to show you," he declared. "I had them in my pocket all the
while. They contain proof that Martin Havelock owns no mining interests in Mexico. They prove,
moreover, that Martin Havelock has not been living in Mexico. They tell a great deal, in addition,