"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 167 - Realm Of Doom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

This gentleman was Lamont Cranston, a wealthy New Yorker who traveled
much
and hunted big game, who had been in Charleston for several days. His evening
attire indicated that he was to be a guest at the governor's reception,
scheduled for this evening.


THERE was something in Cranston's mere approach that compelled the
cashier's attention. The man behind the window stopped as he stood, not even
moving his hand to place Rigger's twenty-dollar bill in the till. Looking
through the wicket, he met Cranston's eyes.
Calm eyes, those, as immobile as Cranston's face, with its hawkish
profile
and masklike look. When Cranston's lips moved, they retained their
straightness;
and his voice came with an even tone.
"Some change for this, please" - Cranston's fingers tendered a
one-hundred-dollar bill - "in any denominations that are convenient."
The cashier acknowledged by placing Rigger's twenty on the counter,
adding
two more twenties, then three tens and two fives.
Holding the wad of bills in his left hand, Cranston reached his right to
his vest pocket. Bringing out a monocle attached to a ribbon, he affixed the
glass to his right eye.
Slowly, he counted off the bills, until he came to the twenty-dollar note
at the bottom of the stack. He was turning away as he finished, and he stood
for a half minute as though glancing across the lobby, before he placed the
money in his pocket.
But in reality, he was intently studying the twenty-dollar bill that had
come from Rigger. Seen through the monocle, the tiniest details of the bill
were enlarged to immense proportions.
The monocle was a powerful magnifying lens.
What Cranston saw on the twenty-dollar bill must have pleased him, for a
soft laugh, scarcely audible, came from his fixed lips. He folded the money
into a wallet; let the monocle drop from his eye. Then, with another slight
turn, Cranston was faced toward the direction of the rack that held the road
maps.
Rigger had left that spot. Just beyond was a telephone booth, its door a
trifle ajar. Glancing toward the exit of the lobby, Cranston saw that Clip and
the bellboy had not yet returned. With that, Cranston took an immediate
interest in the big map rack.
Strolling there, he was close enough to catch the final words of Rigger's
phone conversation.
"So the dame's fallen for the hokum, huh?" Rigger's tone, though guarded,
showed that he was greatly pleased. "Good enough... Yeah. Keep her kidded
until
I show up... Don't worry. I'll be Mr. Fixit... Yeah, I'll be there in plenty
of
time for you to get her to the nine-thirty bus."
Despite his ease of motion, Cranston was at the news stand by the time