"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 183 - Castle of Crime" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

CASTLE OF CRIME
Maxwell Grant
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? CHAPTER I. DEATH ON DISPLAY
? CHAPTER II. THE CLOSED TRAIL
? CHAPTER III. THRUSTS IN THE DARK
? CHAPTER IV. THE SECOND TRAIL
? CHAPTER V. BLONDE MEETS BLONDE
? CHAPTER VI. THE MASTER SPY
? CHAPTER VII. THE BROKEN SNARE
? CHAPTER VIII. NEW LINKS AND OLD
? CHAPTER IX. THE NEW GOAL
? CHAPTER X. OFF CAPE SABLE
? CHAPTER XI. PIRATES LAIR
? CHAPTER XII. HANDS IN CRIME
? CHAPTER XIII. DANGER FAR BELOW
? CHAPTER XIV. NORTHWARD BOUND
? CHAPTER XV. RIVALS MOVE
? CHAPTER XVI. DOOM RIDES ANEW
? CHAPTER XVII. DEATH FOLLOWS DAWN
? CHAPTER XVIII. CRIME'S MASTER
? CHAPTER XIX. THE LAST FIGHT

CHAPTER I. DEATH ON DISPLAY
THE hotel clerk smiled as he handed Bob Osden a letter, along with the room key; and Bob gave a grin
in return. The grin, incidentally, wiped away a very solemn look that had been on Bob's face. He had
been expecting that letter, and needing it very badly.

It wasn't good policy, however, to show too much eagerness in opening it. Nonchalantly, Bob thrust the
letter into his pocket and went to an elevator. Reaching his room, he closed the door, sat down at the
writing desk and chuckled softly, as he calmly tore the end from the envelope.

Bob was shaking the letter, when he drew it into sight, but nothing fell from it. He blew open the end of
the envelope, peered in, expecting to see a bank check. Instead, the envelope was empty. Yanking the
letter open, Bob scanned its brief lines, then slumped deep in his chair.

There wasn't any check, and there would not be any for a long while to come. The letter, from Bob's
father, made that fact very plain.

During the next few minutes, Bob Osden acted in a mechanical fashion. With one hand, he crumpled the
letter, while his other hand kept running through his shocky black hair. The mirror above the writing desk,
had Bob noticed it, would have given him a remarkable picture of his own facial expressions.
He was running the gamut of emotions, that bordered on complete desperation. With an effort, he
recovered himself, stepped to a bureau and angrily uncorked a bottle. About to pour himself a drink, he
noticed his face at last; this time, it was reflected from the bureau mirror.

Bob Osden took a good look at himself.