"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 117 - Vengeance Is Mine" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell) VENGEANCE IS MINE!
by Maxwell Grant As originally published in "The Shadow Magazine," January 1, 1937. Solemn were these words from the mind of a mad criminal - but it was The Shadow who meted out the repayment, with a stern justice that brooked no thwarting! CHAPTER I CRIME'S BLAST NEW YORK lay lulled that night. Too lulled to please The Shadow, as he viewed broad avenues and narrow streets from the passing window of a limousine. Traffic was as heavy as usual. Sidewalks had their full quota of pedestrians. Changing lights formed a colorful medley that added to the city's motion. Yet, to The Shadow, the scene had perceptibly slowed. He could sense the slackened pulse throbs of the metropolis. Beneath the brilliance of Manhattan lay hidden enemies against whom The Shadow waged constant war. They were men of crime - who lurked; then struck. Most dangerous of these were the ones who waited until times when New York seemed placid; for then the law would be least ready to oppose them. itself was an index to activities in the underworld. When crimedom was active, lesser crooks would be on the move. Rubbing shoulders with the populace, those small fry invariably created a tension. Like a mammoth creature, the city would show nervous symptoms. New York would vibrate in its motion. Tonight's smoothness told that crime was latent. There was a reason why the hidden underworld lay quiet. Recently, men of crime had been balked at every turn. Their thrusts had been met promptly by the law. Routed in battle, mobsters had been pursued, even to the confines of their hide-outs. So-called big-shots had fled from Manhattan. Their henchmen had scattered to the hinterlands. They knew who was responsible for their defeats. The Shadow, penetrating to the very council rooms of crime, had been prepared for every evil move. He was the one who had made the counterthrusts. Crime's complete collapse had produced the singular calmness that The Shadow could sense throughout the city. In that quiet lay danger. There were others beside The Shadow who could feel the lull. They were men of supercrime, hidden masters of evil who had long bided their time, awaiting the right opportunity to embark upon insidious campaigns. Somewhere in New York, an unknown plotter might have already recognized that this was the time he wanted. Invariably, a lull like this marked the rise of some formidable foe of justice, whom only The Shadow could cut down. If that plotter chose to move, The Shadow could counter only after the first thrust arrived. |
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