按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
〃A good idea；〃 decided Beezer。 〃Say； you〃…he glowered at the clerk …
〃where'll I find this guy Shaw？〃
〃His room number is 304；〃 began the clerk。 〃Only； he may not be up there…〃
The girl at the switchboard offered an interruption。 She had heard the mention of Shaw's name； but had turned around to see Beezer and the others。 She did not know that the clerk was trying to stall。
〃Mr。 Shaw just put in a call；〃 stated the girl。 〃He ordered supper served in his room。〃
〃That means he's up there；〃 grunted Beezer。 〃All right。 I'll go up and see him。〃
Followed by his pals； Beezer strode toward the elevator。 Hardly had the door closed before a house detective approached the desk and inquired of the clerk：
〃Did that tough guy give his name？〃
〃No；〃 replied the clerk； 〃only one of the men with him called him 'Beezer。'〃
〃Then he's Beezer Dorsch； all right！〃 decided the dick。 〃We just got a call from police headquarters to flag him if we saw him。 Where did he go？〃
〃To Room 304； to see a man named Shaw。〃
〃I'll call headquarters！〃
DURING this interim； Beezer and his two panions had reached the third floor。 They found Room 304 near the inner end of a short corridor。 Beezer tried the door cautiously； to discover that it was locked。 He moved his panions out of the corridor。
〃We got to figure some way of getting at the guy；〃 decided Beezer。 〃Maybe there's a way of reaching a window…〃
〃Ps…s…s…t！〃 One of the thugs interrupted。 〃Scram； Beezer！ There's an elevator door opening up！〃
Beezer urged his panions into an alcove。 They saw a waiter step from the elevator； bearing a tray。 The attendant went to the door of 304 and knocked。 Beezer saw the door open； he spied a haggard face inside the lighted room。 The waiter entered； the door closed。
〃I spotted Shaw； all right；〃 whispered Beezer。 〃He's a sappy…looking guy。
He'll be soft。 Wait'll the waiter leaves。〃
Soon the waiter reappeared； he stopped in the hallway to nod； as he listened to a plaining voice from the room。
〃I told you to bring lemon for my tea；〃 Shaw was objecting。 〃Not cream。 Do you understand？〃
〃Yes； sir。〃
〃Very well。 Return at once and bring the lemon。 The door will be unlocked。
Knock； however； before you enter。〃
〃Very well； sir。〃
The door closed； the waiter returned to the elevator。 Beezer grinned and pulled a revolver from his hip pocket。 He whispered instructions to his thugs。
〃Stick close；〃 he told them。 〃Stay outside the door。 I'll handle this mug alone； if I want you； I'll call you。 Keep an eye peeled for the waiter； or anybody else that shows up。〃
Creeping forward； Beezer reached the door of 304； waited until his followers were beside him。 Imitating the waiter's knock； Beezer rapped upon the door。 He heard an impatient voice：
〃Who is it？〃
〃The waiter；〃 replied Beezer； in a tone less gruff than usual。 〃Bringing the lemon you wanted。〃
Beezer grinned as he gestured with his revolver； for the benefit of his pals。 He was bringing a lemon； all right； one that he fancied would prove more sour than any that Shaw had ever tasted。
〃e in；〃 called the voice within the room。 〃Don't stand out there in the hall。〃
Beezer turned the knob with his left hand。 He shouldered through the doorway； to find himself in a short passage that led to the main portion of the room。 Shaw's table was out of sight beyond the corner； Beezer could hear the clatter of dishes。 Carefully； he closed the door； then edged forward。
〃Where are you； waiter？〃
As Shaw's query came again； Beezer bounded forward。 He passed the projecting corner； swung straight for the spot where he believed that the victim would be seated。 Stopping short as he gripped his leveled gun； Beezer stared at a table by the wall。 He saw the dishes and the food upon them； but the chair behind the table was vacant。
QUICKLY； Beezer looked toward the deeper corner at his left； it was toward the front of the room； a spot that he had passed as he hurried into Shaw's field of vision。 As he turned； Beezer was quicker with his eyes than with his gun。 As a consequence； he was forced to halt before he had a chance to aim。
Beezer Dorsch was staring squarely into the rounded mouth of an automatic … a massive weapon that he was viewing at closer range than ever before。 That 。45 was a living threat； for Beezer had heard it speak often during his recent career of crime。
Above the huge weapon were burning eyes； the only features that Beezer could see beneath the shading brim of a slouch hat。 Below was blackness that formed a shrouded shape。 Beezer saw cloaked shoulders； a thin…gloved fist that gripped the steadied gun。
Beezer's revolver slipped from his numbed fingers。 It thudded the floor beside the dish…laden table。 Slowly； his hands came up； while he stared at those eyes that seemed to paralyze him with their hypnotic spell。 Through a confused whirl of thoughts； Beezer Dorsch grasped the situation。
There was no man named Shaw。 Nor was there need to wonder why the person who used that name had learned so much of crime in Westford。 Stephen Ruthley and his lieutenants had over…looked the obvious； they had failed to connect the supposed investigator； Shaw； with the one person whose presence they had actual cause to fear。
The supposed Shaw was The Shadow。 The cloaked avenger was the being who faced Beezer Dorsch。 The Shadow had awaited Prescott Dunson outside the hotel； that was why he had been on hand； to protect the man whom Beezer had murdered。
The Shadow had not forgotten the letter that Dunson held。 He had foreseen that Dunson's killer might try to trap him。 The Shadow had arranged for it。 He had sprung a snare of his own。
The trap was reversed。 The Shadow； arch…enemy of crime； had taken Beezer Dorsch into his toils！
CHAPTER IX
THE LAW INVADES
THE SHADOW had arranged his trap with consummate skill。 Beezer recognized the fact； as he stared helpless。 Between the table and the corner； The Shadow had placed a floor lamp； he had tilted the shade upward so that its glare was focused on the room。
In a sense； The Shadow had employed the device which Beezer had used on two successive nights。 The lamp had the effect of a spotlight； the corner behind it； darkened in parison； was The Shadow's lurking spot。 The position of the lamp explained why Beezer had overlooked the corner when he passed it。
The crook had not recognized The Shadow's ruse。
The lamp's glare outlined Beezer's face； and the sight was not pretty。 It showed the mobleader's ugly profile； his scarred cheek and the knobby； ill…shaped nose that had won him his nickname。 Beezer's features were yellowish in the glow； the snarl that came from his gritted teeth would have befitted a rat。
The Shadow had stepped close enough for Beezer to see him distinctly； that move had been essential to The Shadow's plan。 His position enabled him to scrutinize Beezer closely； to form his own opinion of the ugly captive that he had snared。 A few brief seconds convinced The Shadow that he held the actual murderer who had given death to Prescott Dunson。
Beezer's face showed it。 So did his manner； for his attempt at bravado was a weak one。 The yellowish tinge upon Beezer's face rep