"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 066 - Doom on the Hill" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

speculation.

New York before morning. That was an important goal. For this young man who was speeding eastward
was engaged in a service which could not be put aside. His name was Harry Vincent. He was a secret
agent of a mysterious being known as The Shadow.

To the world at large, The Shadow was a mysterious master who battled crime. A dweller in darkness, a
supersleuth who could follow unknown trails, The Shadow was a fighter who had shattered hordes of
crookdom. Public and police believed that The Shadow's headquarters lay in New York; but it was also
rumored that his hand reached everywhere that the menace of crime might bring it.

To Harry Vincent, The Shadow was a patient but exacting chief. The Shadow had saved Harry from
death on more than one occasion. He had provided his trusted agent with funds and comfortable
surroundings; in return, he had demanded prompt and thorough obedience to orders.

There were times when The Shadow's ceaseless battles became the work of a lone hand. During these
periods, Harry Vincent was free to journey. Though he welcomed these occasions, Harry never felt
regret when he returned to New York. The service of The Shadow offered thrills and adventure which
intrigued him.

Messages from The Shadow came from various sources. Harry was a member of a small but
highly-trained group of workers. Like the others, he did not know the identity of The Shadow. Ten days
ago, the quiet voice of an agent named Burbank had informed Harry that he could leave New York. This
message had come over the telephone.

Harry had gone home to Michigan. Yesterday morning, he had received a telegram from an investment
broker named Rutledge Mann. That message had referred to securities; to Harry it had meant that he
must be back in New York within forty-eight hours. Harry had set out promptly from the little town of
Colon.

New York! New adventure! Harry's mind was considering past episodes when his eyes saw a sharp turn
to the right. This was the danger spot. Harry slackened speed and guided his car around the bend. As the
road turned crazily upward to the left, he shoved the car into second and approached the grade
crossing.

All clear. The coupe jounced across the tracks; then down the other side. A sharp turn to the right; then a
curve to the left. Harry stepped on the accelerator as he approached a grade ahead. This was hilly
country.

Easy curves required careful driving, but did not greatly hamper speed. The contour of the road became
intriguing to Harry as soon as he had passed the railway crossing. The thick darkness outside the path of
the headlights seemed as heavy as a shroud of solid blackness.

Each curve betokened adventure. At one turn, a dirt road cut in from the right. At another, the whiteness
of an abandoned quarry loomed ghostlike on the left. As the road twisted lazily along the side of a
sloping, half-wooded hill, Harry began to wonder what the next straight stretch might bring.

PERHAPS it was Harry's intensity of thought; possibly his instinct for adventure was at work. Whichever
the case, the driver of the coupe was keyed to alertness as the road made another veer. The glare of the
headlights revealed a clump of bushes; as the lights swerved, Harry caught a fleeting impression of