When the opera house lights went down, The Shadow indulged in a smile of his own. Unlike Pinkey Findlen, The Shadow knew the ways of women. He would use
his acquaintance with Maude Revelle in the future.
Tonight, though Maude did not guess it, she had become an ally of The Shadow in his campaign against crime.
CHAPTER IX
MOVES THROUGH THE DARK
THE next evening, Maude Revelle dined with Lamont Cranston in a little restaurant off Fifth Avenue. The place was both quiet and exclusive; the type of cafe where Maude had often wanted Pinkey to take her, only to have him claim
that "ritzy joints" were the bunk.
Being with Cranston improved Maude's style. She liked his perfect manner, his excellent usage of the English language. She did her best to copy it, with very good results.
There were times, though, when she lapsed. Those came when she referred to
the boy "friend" who had deserted her the night before.
Maude knew plenty about Pinkey; but there was much that she wouldn't tell.
She would have been amazed, though, had she realized how much Cranston learned from the remarks that she dropped. Among that well-gleaned information, The Shadow obtained two important points.
One was that Maude did not know what Pinkey's present racket was. The other was that she had no idea as to the location of Pinkey's present hide-out.
"He's supposed to be on the lam, if you know what I mean," confided Maude.
"In other words, he's had to put himself where the police won't find him. But it
wasn't on account of what he did. I guess he covered that pretty good.
"It's what he's up to, that makes him stay out of sight. He doesn't want to be seen around town, for fear they'll ask him down to headquarters. If he spends his time answering a lot of questions, they might wise up to what he's doing now."
Cranston smiled, as though amused by the adventures of Maude's boy friend.
His gaze, however, made Maude feel that he did not approve of Pinkey.
"I'm dropping the guy," declared Maude. "But I can't do it in a hurry.
His
kind wouldn't understand it. Give him time. He'll get an interest in some other
dame. Then I can step out of the picture without an argument."
WHEN the conversation again turned to Pinkey, Maude remembered that she was supposed to telephone him. There was a booth in the hallway outside, the little room where she and Cranston were dining privately. Maude decided to make
the call.
Hardly had she stepped from the room, before The Shadow reached beneath the table and drew out a single earphone. Placing it to his ear, he heard the plunk of Maude's nickel when she placed it in the pay box. This wire was connected with the telephone booth. From Maude's first words, The Shadow learned that she had called the Bubble Club and was talking to Claude Ondrey.
Pinkey wasn't there; but he was expected by ten o'clock.
"Ten o'clock is when I'll call him," announced Maude. "Yes. Tell him I'll be at the apartment, if you hear from him before then... Yes, and listen, Ondrey. You can tell him that he's going to find out where he gets off..."
"Sure, I'm sore... Yes, Pinkey knows why... You want to know where I am right now? Out with a swell guy, who took me to the opera last night..."
There was a pause, while Ondrey spoke a piece; then came Maude's sharp laugh.
"I'm not telling you who the guy is," she said. "I don't spill Pinkey's name to anybody, do I?... All right, it works two ways. I'm keeping this fellow's name to myself... Sure, tell Pinkey if you like..."
The earphone was parked from sight when Maude returned to the little dining room. They had dined late; Maude was suddenly surprised to notice that her wrist watch said half past nine. She didn't realize that she looked at the watch, because Cranston's gaze had been idly resting in the direction of her hands and arms.
"I've got to go back to the apartment," decided Maude. "Don't worry about taking me there, Mr. Cranston. I can go alone." Cranston wouldn't allow that; but he finally agreed to ride by subway, instead of taking the limousine. It was when they came up from the subway, a block from Maude's apartment, that the
girl expressed real alarm.
"You mustn't come farther," she insisted. "It - well, it mightn't be safe!"
"Not safe?" interposed Cranston. "If this neighborhood is as dangerous as all that, I certainly cannot allow you to go the rest of the way alone."
Maude tightened her attractive lips. Her hand gripped Cranston's arm, with
the sincere clutch, that her fingers had displayed the night before.
"The boy friend's jealous," she declared. "He knows I've met you; that is,
somebody may have told him. But I didn't say who you were. That's why I didn't want you to bring your car.
"And the same goes for you, Mr. Cranston. Maybe Pink - I mean, maybe this guy that thinks he's got a corner on me, will be tough enough to have a couple of gorillas around here. By 'gorillas', I don't mean monkeys from the zoo. I mean sluggers!"
CRANSTON chuckled. Then he took Maude's arm and started her in the direction of the apartment house, ignoring the girls continued protests.
Maude's argument persisted. She became watchful, particularly when they passed the side door of the apartment house. It was dark along that portion of the street, especially in the service alley. Maude feared that there were lurkers present.
She was right. Two figures were crouched in waiting. When Maude and Cranston had passed, the pair exchanged growls. They decided they'd get Cranston on the way back.
"That's what Bugs told us," argued one. "He says to let the dame get upstairs, so she won't know what happened. Then we can handle this stuffed shirt."
"Suppose he don't come back right away?" queried the other. "Whatta we do?
Wait here, maybe all night?"
"Don't worry. He'll, be back. We gotta keep an eye peeled, though, to see he don't hop no cab."
The apartment house was an old one, with a large, but deserted, foyer. As he conducted Maude toward the elevator, The Shadow spoke in a lower tone than usual, but in Cranston's style.
"Go to the side door," he told her. "Wait there, and watch what happens in
the street."
Maude's eyes were wide, startled. But when Cranston turned and strode out through the front, she could do nothing but obey his instructions.
What Maude witnessed a few minutes later, was something that left her even
more astounded.
She saw Cranston come along the side street, pausing to look over his shoulder for a cab. He spotted one coming from a few blocks away; but instead of halting, he did the one thing that Maude feared. He stepped deliberately toward the darkness of the service entrance.
Husky shapes launched from the gloom. Maude gave a scream; tried to yank open the heavy side door. She wouldn't have reached Cranston in time to warn him; but it wasn't necessary.
A sweatered arm swung toward Cranston's head; the fist at the end of it tried to sap him with a blackjack. That arm stopped short as Cranston's hand clamped it. Whipping back into the light, he flayed the thug with a terrific forward heave; then snapped the rowdy all about.
Lashed like a human whip, the husky took a long dive toward the curb. The Shadow had chosen the right direction for the fling, for he had pointed the fellow for a suitable target: a large fire plug.
The thug rammed that metal object with his skull. The quick reverse of The
Shadow's swing served an additional purpose. It took him from the path of a second attacker, who was wielding a chunk of lead pipe. The fellow took a swing
at Cranston, only to miss him by a foot and a half. He didn't have a chance to try another wallop.
Spinning in, The Shadow took a square punch at the footpad's chin. The jolt lifted the slugger off his feet; his head went back with a terrific snap.