"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 101 - The Gray Ghost" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

Moe jammed the brakes as he swung right at the corner. A door swung open; The Shadow dropped to
the curb as the cab made momentary halt. Then Moe was off again, speeding away with his empty cab.
From the side street, the touring car came roaring in pursuit.
Whirling out from between parked cars, a black-cloaked figure blocked the path of the oncoming
machine. Headlights showed the weird shape, a living being who brandished a pair of heavy automatics.
Like a form conjured from nowhere, The Shadow was challenging the passage of the crooks.

A harsh shout, as the driver jabbed the brake pedal; then changed his tactics and pressed the accelerator
instead. The touring car jolted, skidded, then seemed to leap forward like an unleashed Juggernaut. The
hoodlum at the wheel was ready to overhaul The Shadow. He had recognized the archenemy of crime.

Almost beneath the headlights, The Shadow wheeled across the street. He took the direction that the
driver did not expect. With that move, he misled others also.

Again the car skidded, as the driver tried to stop it short. Snarling crooks yanked at a machine gun which
they had thrust from the right side.

The thugs were too late.

As one man fired wildly with a revolver, The Shadow tongued automatic jabs from the curb. One bullet
clipped the aiming thug's wrist; a second clanged the machine gun; then a third zipped a hand that was
grabbing for the rapid-fire weapon. The far door of the touring car ripped open. Howling crooks went
bowling to the street.

The driver had dropped sidewise. A bullet sizzled past his shoulder and splintered the windshield.
Undaunted, the driver clung to the wheel and gave the car the gas. Not quite stalled, the automobile
responded. It rocketed out into the traffic of the avenue.

The Shadow fired a final bullet. He found the left rear tire of the touring car. Careening, the car skidded
to the left, missed a stopping truck and sped away in flight. Its wheels were equipped with new safety
tires. The Shadow's single bullet had failed to ruin the inner tube.

Two crooks had scurried off between parked cars. It was The Shadow's turn to give pursuit. He swept
across the street and reached the parked line on the right. The crooks had already commandeered a taxi
on the avenue and had boarded it to make a lucky dash for safety.

Police whistles were shrilling; distant sirens soon would raise their wail. The Shadow had crippled his
foemen; but he had no chance to pursue them farther. The Shadow's laugh, however, carried triumph as
it whispered in the darkness.

The crooks had not guessed that he was the man in Moe's taxi. Their opinion would be that The Shadow
had been in ambush, awaiting their arrival. Such was the report that they would carry to the person who
held Culden prisoner.

For The Shadow knew that the missing man still lived. Had he been slain, no cover-up crew would have
made such vicious effort. Culden was a link in crime, needed by some crook who had become his
captor.

New angles had developed in the case of the Gray Ghost.