"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 290 - Death has Grey Eyes" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

end.
The effect was a terrific, wavering slide, in which the doomed car seemed
literally to be swept along on the water's surface. To be skating the brink of
a mighty flood was just too much for the imagination, so Foxcroft opened his
eyes.
The car hadn't even reached the gorge.
At the bend, The Shadow had taken to the flume. A crazy track, but a
straight one, the sides of the big wooden V were holding the wheels within its
angled confines. The result was a continuous skid, at so terrific a speed that
every moment threatened outright disaster, but the climax never came.
The very insecurity of this slimy, slanted trough was the feature that
rendered it secure. Each time the wheels tried to climb one bank, the reliable
old law of gravitation functioned in greater proportion and hauled those
wheels
down where they belonged.
Up the other side, down again; the car rollicked happily, but with
diminishing returns, until the ride leveled into a smoothly perfect slither,
to
a road a full mile away from the gorge. There, The Shadow jounced the car from
its track by bearing all his weight upon the wheel until the roadster went
broadside.
As an improvised highway, the problems of a flume were getting out of it,
not into it.
Cloak dropped from his shoulders, slouch hat laid beside him, The Shadow
had again become the calm Mr. Cranston, telling Foxcroft that Dick was
reviving
from the effects of the swift fresh air. Then, driving leisurely along this
road, Cranston reached the lower stretch of the gorge and paused that his
companions might view the result of the vest-pocket flood.
Along with fragments of the splintered bridge were great boulders, huge
masses of turf and mud, along with the debris of uprooted trees. The gorge was
strewn with such trophies, which might have completely buried or obliterated
an
unfortunate car, if carried with the flood.
Cranston's whispered laugh - The Shadow's - was drowned in the raging
tumult, but it stood as a marker to the road of future victory.
To all intents, three men - Cranston, Dick and Foxcroft - had been washed
out permanently. Their enemies would count them dead and forgotten. No
situation, even of his own design, could have better suited The Shadow!


CHAPTER XIV

IRENE BRESLON looked up from her dressing table and felt her eyes freeze
from the icy grey that gripped them.
Here, behind scenes at the Starview Roof Garden, she was meeting a man
she
had hoped never to see again: Doctor Kurtz Greug.
The sympathy between Irene Breslon and Dick Whitlock could be attributed
-