Читать книгу Haunted Ocean - Lawrence Donovan - Страница 5

Table of Contents

“Come into the laboratory,” invited Doc Savage. “You will be interested in what we may have discovered.”

It had been odd that Doc had made little further comment on the manner of Professor Jasson’s death. Nor had he as yet informed the police. The body had been covered in the library.

Miss Krants and her brother joined Professor Callus in the laboratory. The professor’s eyes gleamed with appreciative interest.

“This is a treat,” he said. “I’ve heard much of your equipment, Mr. Savage.”

Doc Savage produced several sets of earphones.

“If you will listen,” he said, “you will hear that which has upset the officials of the Coast Survey. Were it more pronounced, it might be mistaken for the ordinary rumble of some undersea earthquake. But the seismograph has not responded.”

Doc explained, after they had listened to that faint murmuring. It was a sound distinctly of the sea. It might have been that peculiar roaring effect produced when a conch shell is held over one ear.

The instruments showed there had been no unusual weather anywhere. The atmospheric conditions remained normal practically all over the world.

“But something has been happening,” said Long Tom, the electrical wizard. “Our own radio waves encounter a blind spot at intervals.”

“And it seems to come from the depths of the ocean itself,” explained Doc Savage. “It is unlike anything the Coast Survey has ever previously encountered. I have been unable to trace it to any manifestation of nature.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sharp buzzing of the telephone. Doc took the call in the presence of the others. The voice came over long distance.

“This is the President of the United States speaking,” came to Doc. “It is important that you come to Washington at once, for a confidential communication.”

“I understand,” stated Doc. “What have you heard from the commission?”

There was a few seconds hesitation. Then the president spoke again.

“That is part of it,” he said, gravely. “The commission has not reached Calais. The steamship Trafalgar Square has not been reported for more than twelve hours. The other part of it is too fantastic for belief.”

“I shall communicate with you when I arrive,” was Doc’s quiet reply. “The news you give confirms a thought that may be of some importance.”

His thought was indeed of the most serious importance. Mention of the commission was mingled with a growing conviction on the part of the bronze adventurer. The dead man outside his door had pointed directly to something new, some human agency connected with all this strange business of the haunted ocean.

The armament of this dead man, Professor Jasson, was indisputable evidence that Doc Savage’s present work was unwanted by some one. It seemed clear enough that a reputedly mild little professor had arrived at Doc’s headquarters for the purpose of killing, if necessary, and most certainly with the idea of destroying the bronze man’s extensive equipment.

The report of the disappearance of a commission on its way to Calais was of the greatest significance. Doc Savage was among the very few persons who knew of the commission. It might have been correctly called a “war commission.”

But its real mission was to end war. That is, the greater nations of the world had decided on the most powerful of all treaties.

This was to be a pact that would include not disarmament of any nation, but the immediate super-armament of the six member nations against all others. Six governments had decided the time had come for them to take a stand for peace against the world.

In brief, they were planning such powerful navies, air fleets and armies as to make a war threat from others impossible. The six great nations had decided to become world police.

Doc Savage had much more than a general interest in this war commission to end war. William Harper Littlejohn, better known as “Johnny,” the archæologist and geologist of Doc’s group, was one of the commission.

The six war commissioners had been in London. They were preparing to meet with representatives of other nations at Washington within a short period. The commission had boarded the steamer Trafalgar Square for the crossing of the English Channel from Dover to Calais. That crossing should have required only a few short hours.

Now there had been no radio report of the Trafalgar Square for more than twelve hours. There had been no S O S alarm. The weather had been of the calmest for that usually stormy channel.

Yet the Trafalgar Square, one of the newest and safest of Channel vessels, had disappeared.

Doc checked over in his mind the members of the commission.

Johnny, for the present at least, was representing the United States. The others were Sir Arthur Westcott, Great Britain; Baron Calosa, Italy; Monsieur Lament, France; Herr Schumann, Germany, and Señor Torron, Spain.

Doc Savage confronted the others. He spoke first to Professor Callus and Miss Krants.

“We have been honored by your interest,” he announced. “You are at liberty to remain while Renny and Long Tom make further observations.”

Then he issued quick directions.

“Renny, you and Long Tom will confirm as closely as possible the locale you already have fixed. Monk and Ham will accompany me. We will be gone for only a few hours.”

Drawing Renny to one side in the library, Doc added instructions unheard by the others.

“For the present, you will not notify the police of the dead man,” Doc advised. “But the circumstances are such, it might be advisable to be sure that Miss Krants is safely escorted to her home. Also, it is possible you will have other visitors who will be interested in what you are doing. Treat them with every courtesy.”

“Holy cow!” muttered Renny. “And all this was confidential stuff between us and the Coast Survey! There’s a screw loose somewhere, Doc!”

“There may be several, but that will develop,” was all the man of bronze explained.

Acting on Doc’s instructions, Ham and Monk were fully armed when they left the skyscraper headquarters. Which might have seemed unusual for what could hardly be other than a fast airplane trip to the national capital.

In Doc’s special armored sedan, the three sped rapidly toward what to most persons appeared to be only a little-used warehouse on the Hudson River. This bore the simple sign: HIDALGO TRADING COMPANY.

The warehouse was a set of hangars housing the world’s most modern and remarkable planes, dirigible and submarine.

At headquarters, Renny and Long Tom continued their checking of the instruments.

“The blind spot,” announced Long Tom, “is somewhere in the vicinity of Norway, in the North Sea.”

“Remarkable!” commented Professor Callus.