mg.dictatorofcrime-第3部分

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　　The　climber　was　The　Shadow！
　　Boldly；　almost　openly；　he　was　trying　to　reach　the　darkness　of　the　balcony　above；　but　to　manage　it；　he　would　have　to　swing　outward；　into　plain　sight；　should　anyone　else　stare　upward。　The　police　by　the　cab　might　miss　sight　of　him；　they　were　close　to　the　wall　and　still　talking　to　the　driver。　But　Margo's　friend　by　the　hedge　had　a　perfect　angle　from　which　he　could　spot　The　Shadow。　Margo's　own　stare　up　to　the　balcony　certainly　wasn't　helping　matters。　If　she　kept　it　up　a　few　moments　longer；　the　cop　would　probably　wonder　what　she　was　looking　at。
　　The　one　thing　to　do　was　get　her　mind　off　The　Shadow；　and　carry　the　officer's　attention；　too。　So　Margo　tossed　away　the　cigarette；　kicked　off　her　slippers；　and　tightened　the　bathing　cap。
　　She　walked　to　the　springboard；　stepped　to　the　far　end　of　it　and　poised；　preparing　for　a　swan　dive。　Her　eyes　raised　and　automatically　she　saw　the　lighted　windows；　where　Durez　and　his　friends　were　entertaining　their　guests。
　　She　even　caught　the　sound　of　their　rising　voices。
　　Then！
　　Margo　never　took　the　swan　dive。　She　was　frozen　where　she　was　by　the　sudden　thing　that　occurred　in　the　rooms　above。　Light　and　gaiety　ended　together。　With　a　single　blink；　the　windows　were　blotted　with　an　absolute　darkness　that　seemed；　by　its　very　pall；　to　smother　the　babble　which　ceased　as　the　blackness　came！
　　With　that　blot　that　foretold　immediate　crime；　Margo　lost　her　last　chance　to　spot　The　Shadow；　as　he　swung　out　to　pull　himself　up　over　the　balcony　rail！
　　
　　
　　　CHAPTER　III　
　　　DEATH　GOES　RAMPANT　
　　THE　last　moment　of　light　in　the　third…floor　suite　showed　a　scene　that　could　not　be　viewed　from　below…one　which　presaged　the　horror　that　was　to　be　when　the　illumination　ended。
　　On　tables　and　chairs　in　the　center　of　the　room　were　the　coffers　that　had　e　from　the　armored　truck；　open　for　inspection　by　the　bankers。　The　smaller　coffers　were　by　far　the　heavier；　for　they　contained　gold；　in　coin。　Gold　from　the　treasury　of　Centralba；　stored　up　through　years：　governmental　proceeds　from　such　modities　as　oil；　bananas；　and　mahogany。
　　The　former　president；　Francisco　Peridor；　who　still　called　Centralba　by　its　old　name；　had　done　well　for　his　people。　All　the　results　of　his　economics　had　reached　the　hands　of　Luis　Castenago；　the　present　dictator。
　　These　funds　in　gold；　plus　the　American　currency　that　swelled　from　the　larger　chests；　were　payment　from　Castenago　to　Durez；　and　others；　who　had　fattened　on　private　concessions；　now　the　dictator's　property。
　　But　Durez　and　the　rest　were　more　than　satisfied；　as　their　laughter　told。
　　Their　mirth　had　simply　increased　when　they　saw　the　two　American　bankers　stare　in　awe　at　so　much　wealth；　particularly　the　gold。
　　Then　the　scene　of　pelf　was　vanished　in　a　trice！　Not　even　the　gold　could　glitter　in　the　blackness　that　came　when　the　lights　went　off。　The　blackout　could　mean　but　one　thing：　a　threat　that　produced　absolute　silence。　Someone　was　after　the　spoils　that　Castenago　had　yielded！
　　In　the　pitch…darkness；　men　trembled。　Durez　and　his　associates；　fresh　from　a　land　where　death　could　occur　at　the　mere　snap　of　a　dictator's　fingers；　had　thought　themselves　safe　in　this　healthier　clime　where　law　had　prevailed。
　　True；　they　had　heard　that　criminals　could　strike　in　such　cities　as　Miami；　or　the　Beach；　but　they　had　been　jesting　on　that　very　point　when　they　mentioned　the　terrorism　that　prevailed　in　Centralba。
　　Jests　were　over。　The　menace　was　here。
　　A　voice　spoke　from　the　doorway。　Its　rasp　was　crimeland's　edition　of　a　dictator's　harsh　demands。　The　tone　belonged　to　Murk　Wessel；　big　con　man；　who　had　switched　from　his　more　subtle　specialty　to　outright　banditry　because　of　the　profits　involved。
　　〃Anybody　that　moves　gets　croaked！〃　assured　Murk。　〃That　dough　is　going　out　of　here；　and　nobody　stops　it！　Savvy？〃
　　This　wasn't　like　Centralba；　where　the　military　police　stepped　up　in　daylight　and　marched　their　victims　off　to　prison；　with　the　promise　of　a　mock　trial　that　would　mean　a　firing　squad　at　dawn。
　　Here；　things　happened　in　the　darkness；　where　accusers　didn't　even　show　their　faces。　Men　of　crime　didn't　believe　in　trials；　even　of　the　mock　variety。
　　Death's　promise　was　immediate。
　　The　stir　that　followed　made　all　hearers　shudder；　thinking　that　some　of　their　fellows　had　foolishly　moved。　But　the　motion　came　from　Murk's　confederates。　They　were　groping　for　the　coffers；　and　they　reached　them。　There　were　slams　as　the　lids　went　shut。　Lugging　their　burdens；　the　crooks　started　out。
　　Even　then；　Murk's　raspy　tone　was　adding　reminders。　There　was　no　telling　how　many　more　of　his　tribe　stood　present。　Durez　and　his　rades　still　trembled；　as　did　the　bankers。　Each　felt　sure　that　a　gun　had　been　trained　upon　him　just　as　the　lights　vanished；　and　that　its　muzzle　still　threatened　death。
　　
　　
　　TWO　men　in　the　room　were　steady。　They　were　two　members　of　the　Beach　police　force；　the　pair　that　Murk　hadn't　seen　go　out。　They　weren't　budging　for　the　present；　because　the　time　wasn't　quite　right。
　　They　wanted　to　get　at　the　crooks　when　the　exodus　started；　so　they　were　gauging　their　wait　for　Murk's　voice。　It　wouldn't　do　to　start　shooting　while　helpless　men　were　involved。　Besides；　the　police　felt　they　could　count　on　support。
　　They　were　thinking　of　the　private　dicks　who　had　e　with　the　bankers。
　　They　didn't　guess　that　those　two　supporters　had　already　sold　out　to　Murk；　and　had　guns　ready；　not　for　the　crooks；　but　for　the　police　themselves。　This　was　a　set…up　made　to　crime's　order；　and　it　went　even　deeper。
　　Murk　revealed　its　depths　when　he　spoke　again。
　　〃Some　light　out　there　in　the　hall；〃　he　ordered。　The　light　came；　enough　to　show　guns　but　not　faces；　for　Murk　and　the　two　men　with　him　had　their　backs　to　the　wall。　〃Now；　let's　look　this　over。　Good！〃　Murk　turned；　very　slightly；　muffling　his　face。　〃e　in；　the　rest　of　you。　You're　needed。〃
　　It　wasn't　a　bluff。　Two　men　eased　in　from　the　hallway；　along　which　the　precious　coffers　had　departed。　They　were　experienced　gunzels；　these；　for　their　crouch；　the　handling　of　their　revolvers；　proved　it。　If　Murk　had　shouted　his　intention；　it　couldn't　have　been　more　plain。　He　was　doing　things　as　they　weren't　done　even　in　Centralba。
　　Murk　intended　to　follow　up　his　gigantic　robbery　with　an　absolute　massacre！
　　It　drilled　home　to　Durez　and　his　patriots。　It　even　gripped　the　trembling　bankers。　Most　of　all；　it　stirred　the　two　local　officers。　Quickly；　their　hands　went　to　their　guns。　They　hadn't　any　idea　that　they　were　slated　to　be　shot　in　the　back；　that　their　own　actions　would　be　the　signal　for　a　plete　slaughter。
　　That　was　recognized　by　only　one　person　opposed　to　crime；　and　his　response　was　singular。
　　He　laughed。
　　Strange　that　a　laugh　should　have　changed　the　case　entirely；　but　that　was　because　the　laugh　itself　was　strange。　It　came　as　a　mocking　challenge　to　all　men　of　evil；　a　taunt　that　they　recognized　as　a　threat　of　doom　to　themselves。
　　Sinister　was　that　mirth　from　the　doorway　to　the　open　balcony；　where　its　author　was　visible　only　as　a　wavering　shape　against　the　slight　moonlight　reflected　into　the　room。
　　It　was　the　laugh　of　The　Shadow！
　　Murk's　rasp　was　the　lead　tone　in　a　chorus　of　snarls　as　crooks；　one　and　all；　wheeled　toward　the　spot　where　The　Shadow　had　entered。　Even　the　traitorous　private　detectives　betrayed　their　hands。　They　swung　from　the　officers　they　covered　and　aimed　for　the　balcony；　too。
　　Guns　volleyed　with　a　thunder　that　rattled　the　windows；　blasting　straight　toward　the　weaving　target　that　the　killers　saw。　Blackness　swayed；　but　remained。
　　Again；　The　Shadow　laughed！
　　The　phenomenon　produced　a　panic。　Crooks　were　springing　about；　madly　seeking　the　door；　prepared　to　bowl　Murk　Wessel　from　their　path。　The　Shadow　could　have　picked　them　off　with　rapid　shots；　right　then；　if　the　two　police　officers　hadn't　flung　themselves　into　the　tide。
　　Durez　and　his　rades；　revolutionists　by　choice；　were　flinging　themselves　forward；　too。　Yet　The　Shadow　could　have　overe　those　handicaps。　The　real　trouble　came　from　another　source。
　　A　door　slashed　open；　throwing　a　flood　of　light　into　the　room。　It　was　a　connecting　door；　and　the　man　who　flung　it　wide　was　Colin　Nayre；　the　only　person　absent　from　the　conference。
　　
　　
　　THAT　path　of　glow　across　the　room　showed　the　target　that　Murk's　crew　had　riddled；　but　hadn't　hurt。　The　thing　was　a　hanging　curtain　at　the　balcony　door。
　　In　entering；　The　Shadow　had　drawn　it　out　so　that　the　wind　could　stir　it。　He　had　been　moving　from　the　doorway　when　he　laughed。
　　At　present；　The　Shadow　lacked　his　former　advantage。　Nayre's　opening　of　the　connecting　door　caught　the　cloaked　fighter　in　the　worst　possible　position。　The　Shadow　was　dodging　across　the　room；　hoping　to　outflank　crooks　before　they　reached　the　hallway。
　　Murk's　harsh　shout　was　scarcely　necessary；　for　the　rest　saw　The　Shadow；　too。　Madly；　they　aimed　for　him　as　he　wheeled　back　from　the　light。
　　The　Shadow　was　gone；　but　guns　were　ripping；　cutting　a　wide　swath　through　the　only　area　where　he　could　be；　shots　aimed　from　three　to　six　feet　from　the　floor；　sure　to　catch　a　whirling　target；　wherever　he　might　be。
　　The　throats　of　guns　had　shouted　crimedom's　cry；　with　bullets　to　back　it：
　　Death　to　The　Shadow！
　　
　　
　　　CHAPTER　IV　
　　　WAYS　OF　FLIGHT　
　　THIS　time；　there　was　no　responding　laugh　as　the　echoes　of　the　volley　faded。　Instead；　the　bursts　of　guns　were　everywhere。
　　The　two　policemen；　relieved　of　the　traitors　who　threatened　them；　were　springing　upon　the　crooks；　shooting　as　they　came。　They　were　yelling　for　others　to　get　clear；　and　the　bankers　were　heeding　their　advice。
　　Durez　and　his　patriots　were　not。　They　were　thinking　of　their　gold；　and　forgetting　something　else：　namely；　that　Murk　had　given　the　order　for　their　death。　Grabbing　for　guns；　the　Centralbans　were　getting　them　from　the　muzzle　end；　with　bullets　as　stingers。
　　An　odd　thing　was　happening　deep　in　the　room。　The　two　private…detective　traitors　had　turned　and　were　looking　at　a　figure　on　the　floor。　It　should　have　been　dead；　but　it　wasn't。　The　Shadow　was　ing　up；　alive；　and　they　knew　why。
　　He　hadn't　whirled　away；　he　had　taken　a　headlong　dive；　ahead　of　the　barrage！
　　Rolling　on　the　floor；　The　Shadow　had　been　below　the　ra