Читать книгу Quest of the Spider: A Doc Savage Adventure - Lester Bernard Dent - Страница 4

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Alighting in the vast Grand Central Station in midtown New York City, Big Eric and Edna hurried to a telephone.

“I’m going to call Ham,” Big Eric explained. He looked up “Ham’s” number, then lifted the receiver.

He did not pay particular attention to a man who hobbled near by on a pair of crutches. The fellow had one arm in a sling. His face was swathed in bandages. His hair projected a tousled mass from the gauze swathing. It was curly and yellow.

Big Eric replaced the receiver.

“Ham was not at his home,” he told Edna, “but he left an address where I can find him.”

The two travelers from Louisiana quitted the station and engaged a taxi.

They failed to note that the bandage-swathed man had hobbled out after them on his crutches. The fellow showed remarkable agility.

Over to Fifth Avenue ran Big Eric’s cab. It wheeled south. The hour was near dusk. Myriads of lighted windows in the skyscrapers made them like stacks of flashing jewels.

The bandaged man had taken another cab. In the obscurity of the machine, he was keeping a close watch on Big Eric’s vehicle. At the same time he fingered his bandages as though their presence was irksome.

Big Eric Danielsen and his daughter alighted before a great building that ran upward like a white slab for nearly a hundred stories. It was one of the largest and most sumptuous in New York.

They rode in an elevator to the eighty-sixth floor. Big Eric touched the bell button beside a door which was severely plain, and devoid of all lettering.

The door opened, framing a man.

“Ham!” boomed Big Eric. “By golly, I’m glad to see you!”

Ham was a slender, quick-moving man. His garments were of the very latest cut and the most expensive fabrics. He was sartorial perfection.

In one well-groomed hand, Ham carried a harmless-looking black cane—the sword cane which Big Eric had mentioned. Ham was seldom seen without this necessary item of his dress.

Big Eric and Ham began pumping hands and giving each other terrific thumps on the back.

“You fuzzy-eared pirate!” Ham chuckled.

“You skinny ambulance chaser!” rumbled Big Eric.

The lumber long turned proudly to Edna. “This, Ham, is my reward for getting married instead of bouncing around over the world, tumbling into messes and out, as you have done. My daughter!”

“I find it hard to believe”—Ham smiled gallantly—“that such a homely father could have a daughter so entrancingly beautiful.”

After a few more ribald pleasantries passed between the old friends, Big Eric glanced about the office curiously. The place was furnished with great luxury. A large safe stood at one side. A massive and exquisitely inlaid table was near the large windows. A door on the other side of the room was closed.

“This your office, Ham?” the lumberman inquired.

Ham shook his head. “No. This is the New York headquarters of Doc Savage.”

Big Eric glanced about anxiously. “I hope we can meet Doc Savage soon. We certainly need his aid.”

At this, Ham’s well-barbered face showed regret. “I’m afraid I have some bad news for you.”

“Eh?” Big Eric’s ruddy features paled. “What d’you mean?”

“I cannot find Doc Savage,” replied Ham soberly.

A shocked silence filled the room for a moment.

“Golly!” gasped Big Eric. “You don’t mean the Gray Spider heard I was coming to Doc Savage, and killed Savage to keep him from helping me?”

Ham waved the suggestion away with his sword cane.

“Not at all! It is something entirely different. You recall that I told you a great deal of Doc Savage. Especially did I dwell upon the fabulous fund of knowledge he possesses. I mentioned great discoveries he has made in the fields of chemistry, electricity, surgery, and so on. In your own field, you know of the marvelous quick-growing timber tree he perfected.”

“I certainly do!” affirmed the lumber king. “In my opinion that is the outstanding piece of plant wizardry of all time!”

“What I am getting around to is this,” continued Ham. “These marvelous discoveries are made by Doc Savage during periods when he drops from sight. He simply vanishes. Nobody knows where he goes. Nobody can get in touch with him. It is as though he had dropped from the earth.”

“Then our trip to New York is for nothing!” Edna Danielsen said sharply. “Your Doc Savage is supposed to devote his services to mankind, yet he goes off some place where he cannot be found when he is needed the most!”

Edna was disappointed at not finding Doc Savage here, and with an unreasonableness not uncommon to the fair sex, was inclined to blame Doc for not being there.

“Young lady,” Ham said severely, “you do not realize that Doc Savage’s benefactions to humanity extend beyond helping every Tom, Dick, and Harry, or Mary, Jane, and Anne, out of their private troubles. Doc Savage has a great laboratory at some remote spot in the world, a laboratory that is unquestionably the finest in existence. That is my opinion, although even I, one of his five best friends, am not sure. No doubt he has retired there, and when he appears, he will be bearing some new contribution which will save thousands of lives.

“That contribution may be a new method of curing some disease. It may be anything. But it will be of vastly more importance than any personal misfortune you or anybody else might have met in the meantime!”

Ham had spoken with a passion to which he was seldom moved. At his words, the pretty young woman looked very angry, then thoughtful, and, finally, contrite.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

Ham bowed an apology. “Pardon my bluntness, if you will. I realize you were not fully aware of the amazing character of Doc Savage.”

Ham now conducted Big Eric and Edna through the rest of Doc Savage’s skyscraper aerie.

In an adjoining room was one of the most complete scientific libraries to be found. Thousands of volumes lined the walls and filled massive floor cases.

Next came the laboratory, a very large room, replete with benches of apparatus and case after case of rare chemicals and metals. Efficient electric furnaces, mixing machines, exhausting machines, and equipment of which no one but Doc Savage knew the use, were set on permanent bases here and there.

“The second most complete laboratory in existence,” said Ham proudly. “The most complete is undoubtedly the one which nobody but Doc has ever seen.”

They returned to the outer office.

“Isn’t there any possible way we can get hold of Doc Savage?” Big Eric asked desperately.

“Absolutely no way!” declared Ham. “He will appear here. Until he does, no one can get word to him. Doc demands absolute solitude when he does his greatest work. It may be weeks before he returns. It may be minutes.”

“I’ve got millions of dollars,” Big Eric muttered. “If money will—”

“It might interest you to know,” Ham smiled dryly, “that during the past year Doc Savage has probably spent on worthy causes more millions than you possess.”

“Where’d he get his jack?” inquired Big Eric, with the natural curiosity of a man who has made a success wishing to know how another man accomplished the same thing.

Ham ignored the question to make a statement.

“Doc Savage has merely to step into a radio station at a certain hour on a certain day, and broadcast a few words in a language not one person in ten million understands. Within a few days, he will receive automatically a shipment of several million dollars’ worth of pure gold.”

Big Eric goggled.

“Golly!” he sputtered. “Where does it come from?”

Ham shook his head. “I am not at liberty to tell any one.”

Nor could the most agonizing tortures have forced Ham to reveal the source of Doc Savage’s fabulous and perpetual wealth. It came from a lost valley in a remote section of Central America, did that limitless flow of gold—from a valley defended by descendants of the great Mayan civilization of ancient times. The wealth was supplied by the Mayans to be devoted solely to the benefiting of mankind, and it was through Doc Savage that they knew it would be expended for that purpose.

But the source of the gold was a secret to all but Doc and his five friends, of whom Ham was one.

Beautiful Edna Danielsen twined her fingers together thoughtfully. She was beginning to realize Doc Savage was a personage mighty beyond all her imaginings.

She wondered what he looked like. He’d probably be a shriveled little wart with a head like a barrel. He would wear glasses with lenses as thick as milk-bottle bottoms.

Doc’s body would be just ample enough to carry his magnificent set of brains around, Edna decided. That was always the way with geniuses. They had spent all their life studying intensively—which in truth is what makes a genius. But as a consequence, they became pale, shriveled, bald specimens.

It wasn’t a complimentary mental picture Edna painted of what she expected Doc Savage to look like. She reflected he’d have whiskers. They’d look like he was going around with his chin buried in a bird nest.

Edna was due for a shock.

Suddenly Ham jumped as though stung. Into the office there had penetrated a weird sound!

It was low, mellow, trilling. It might have been the alarm note of some strange feathered songster of the jungle, or the sound of an undulating breeze filtering through a jungled forest. Beautifully melodious, it still had no tune; and it was inspiring without being in the least awesome.

“Doc Savage!” Ham said softly.

For this was the sound that was a part of Doc—a small, unconscious thing which he did in moments of intense concentration. To his friends, it was both the cry of battle and the song of triumph. It would come from his lips in moments of stress—when events of importance impended.

It had the peculiar quality of seeming to come from everywhere rather than from a definite spot. It might have been emanating from inside the office. Yet Doc Savage was certainly nowhere about.

A commotion burst in the corridor outside.

A man screamed. It was a terrified scream. A pistol exploded. It filled the corridor with deafening echoes.

A moan followed.

Then silence came.

The corridor door opened swiftly. An amazing picture was revealed.

In mid-air before the door, a man was suspended. Bandages which had swathed the man’s features were disarranged. A yellow-haired wig hung askew, revealing hair that was black and slick as the back of a greased turtle.

It was the man who had attempted the life of Big Eric and Edna in the passenger air liner. He must have raced to New York in a chartered plane.

But the slick-haired man was forgotten as Big Eric and Edna stared at the arm and hand which held the fellow in mid-air.

Such an arm! It was Herculean, yet so perfectly formed that its great size was evident only in comparison to the man it held as effortlessly as it would suspend a rag.

The muscles and tendons were like bundles of piano wire. The fingers were long, yet so muscular that they had utterly paralyzed the slick-haired man by their mere grasp upon his scrawny neck.

Most remarkable of all was the unusual deep bronze color of the flesh. Indeed, the skin seemed to be simply a bronze lacquer applied to the corded steel of the tendons.

The remainder of a mighty bronze form which had been masked by the door now appeared. The slick-haired victim was carried easily, his feet twitching weakly several inches off the floor.

“Doc Savage!” Ham said softly once more.

Pretty Edna Danielsen was stunned. Could this be the famous Doc Savage, who she had pictured as a shriveled runt, with whiskers and bottle-bottom glasses?

Why, this man was the most astounding physical specimen she had even seen! The muscular development of that bronze body was little short of incredible.

And the bronze face! The beautiful Louisiana girl knew she had never gazed upon more striking features. They were perfect in their strong regularity. The hair, of a slightly darker bronze, lay back smoothly.

It was Doc Savage’s eyes that held her though. They were strange, marvelous eyes. They glittered like pools of flake gold as they caught little lights from the ceiling chandelier. Those golden eyes seemed to have a power of conveying commands solely by their expressive quality.

Doc Savage released the slick-haired man. So terrible had been the grip upon his neck, the fellow fell to the floor as though paralyzed.

“He was listening outside the door,” Doc said. “He had a gun in his hand, as though he were going to leap in here, shooting. Fortunately, the gun missed me when it went off as I seized him.”

Doc’s voice was capable of wondrous tonal changes.

“He’s one of the Gray Spider’s men!” said Big Eric.

Big Eric’s words were little more than a whisper. He was awed by the impressive presence of this great man of bronze.

And it was the first time Big Eric had been awed by any man!

Doc Savage moved into the laboratory. His going was so light and effortless that he seemed to flow like a quick puff of bronze smoke across the carpet.

“I’ve seen what I thought were strong men!” Big Eric mumbled. “But I never saw anything until a minute ago!”

Beautiful Edna Danielsen added a thought which reached nobody’s ears. “I can say the same thing about his good looks!”

Doc Savage came back. He carried a small leather case. This held, on a plush bed, two hypodermic needles.

Doc applied one of the needles to the eavesdropper’s arm.

Nothing seemed to happen. The fellow merely sat there, absently rubbing the spot where the needle had pricked.

“Get up and sit in a chair!” Doc commanded compellingly.

The man obeyed meekly.

Noting the astounded faces of the others, Doc tapped the hypodermic needles and explained.

“The first holds a drug which affects a certain portion of the brain, rendering the victim incapable of thinking. This fellow, for instance, will now do anything I tell him because he cannot think of reasons why he shouldn’t. I could tell him to go over and jump out of the window, and he’d do it without being able to think that the fall meant certain death. This drug is one of my late developments.”

Doc indicated the second hypo needle. “This contains a drug which neutralizes the first. In other words, this man will remain in his present condition for days, unless he receives the second drug.”

Big Eric and Edna had listened to this in a sort of frozen wonder. Ham, however, did not seem surprised. He was accustomed to the remarkable things Doc Savage did.

Ham delivered belated introductions.

Attractive Edna Danielsen was mildly vexed when Doc Savage showed no signs of being moved by her beauty. This was something new for Edna. Most young men would have all but toppled over after an enthralling smile such as the one that seemed wasted on Doc. Strangely, she felt a desire to impress this remarkable bronze man, a desire that was unusual to Edna, in whose life young men meant nothing.

Doc Savage killed no time in getting down to business.

“I am sorry I was not here to receive you,” he said. He let it go at that—not troubling to explain that he had been for the past weeks at his “Fortress of Solitude,” whence he always retired for his experiments and study. This retreat was on a rocky island within the bleak fastness of the arctic. No one knew where it was, other than Doc.

“Tell your story,” Doc commanded.

“I am president of Danielsen & Haas, the largest lumber concern in the South,” explained Big Eric. “For some months past, I have noticed strange happenings in the Southern lumber industry. The first of these revolved around Worldwide Sawmills, a rather large concern.

“The president and vice president of Worldwide Sawmills were the principal owners of the company. They dropped suddenly from sight. The word went out that they were taking an extended world cruise. But I had private detectives investigate, and no trace of their sailing on such a cruise could be found.

“Simultaneous with their disappearance, two strangers took charge of Worldwide Sawmills. Everything was legal. The vanished vice president and president of Worldwide had signed over absolute control of the company to these men. There was no doubt of that.”

Big Eric paused to make an angry growling noise in his big throat.

“The two strangers are looting Worldwide Sawmills! I’m sure of it! They’re liquidating the company, which is worth many millions! They’re selling out slowly, and pocketing the proceeds.

“A few weeks later, almost the identical thing happened to Bayou Sash & Door, another large concern. The next was the Little Giant Lumber Corporation. And others followed. In each case, the owners dropped from sight, and strangers took charge.”

Big Eric struck the inlaid table for emphasis.

“I tell you, a highly organized gang is stealing millions!” he exclaimed.

“I became suspicious,” Big Eric continued. “As I mentioned, I put private detectives to work. They found little of value. But they did unearth strange rumors of a sinister being known as the Gray Spider, who is moving slowly but surely upon a gigantic plan to loot the lumber industry of the South.”

“That all you know of the Gray Spider?” Doc inquired.

“Yes, except that queer, uncanny things are told of this Gray Spider. One tale has it that his organization is a fanatic group known as the Cult of the Moccasin, and that they give human sacrifices. Those rumors are strange things to be connected with high finance and thievery.”

“Sounds like voodoo,” said Doc Savage. “Cults of voodooism are known to flourish right here in New York. Indeed, cases of human sacrifices have been proven. But you have not told what brings you here. Has the Gray Spider made attempts to throw his web about you?”

“Exactly!” rumbled Big Eric. “First, an attempt was made to kidnap myself and my daughter. Evil-looking little brown men attacked our car, but I beat them off. Twice after that, we were shot at. I became worried, and started for New York. The man you just seized tried to murder us by disabling the plane, and fixing our parachutes so they were worthless.”

“Who takes charge of your company in case you are put out of the way?”

“My daughter,” said Big Eric proudly.

“In case you both are eliminated?”

“Why, Horace Haas,” Big Eric replied hesitatingly. “He owns a portion of the concern, and is the junior partner. He’s a harmless cuss. Not even a good business man. But he furnished the capital for my first business venture, and for that reason, I guarantee you he will share in my fortune as long as there is such a thing.”

Doc’s strange golden eyes flickered appreciatively. Big Eric evidently was not a man who forgot his friends.

“Wait here,” Doc directed. “I am going to search the prisoner.” To the drugged captive he said sharply: “Follow me!”

The man got up meekly and followed. He bumped into the inlaid table and stood pushing foolishly against it until Doc pulled him aside. The man was so under the influence of Doc’s weird drug that he was not able to reason that he could get past the table by going around it. He was like a mechanical man somebody had wound up and turned loose.

Out of sight of Edna Danielsen, Doc stripped the prisoner. He examined the fellow thoroughly. Inside the man’s mouth, he found the only thing of interest.

It was a likeness of a poisonous water moccasin tattooed on the roof of the fellow’s mouth!