Читать книгу The Sea Angel: A Doc Savage Adventure - Lester Bernard Dent - Страница 6

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The diminutive radio had hardly done justice to Renny’s voice. It was a remarkable voice with the tonal qualities of an angry bear in a large den. Renny’s fists were also remarkable, each being a gigantic piece of bone and gristle.

Renny was Colonel John Renwick, noted throughout the world for his abilities as an engineer.

“Long Tom,” Renny’s companion, was a very feeble-looking fellow. The truth was that he had never been ill, and could whip nine out of any average ten men he would meet on a street. He was famous for the things he could do with electricity.

These two assistants to Doc Savage stood in a third-floor corridor of the office building which they had mentioned to Doc as being near Wall Street. Through an open window at the end of the corridor, traffic noises and the shouts of a newsboy reached them.

“Grand jury fails to indict Monk Mayfair!” the news vendor was howling. “Read about it! Extra! Law cannot punish Monk!”

Long Tom said soberly. “According to the tabloid newspapers, people are beginning to talk about lynching Monk.”

Renny also nodded. “I heard that, too. Well, we’d better grab old Leander Quietman.”

Leander Quietman had entered an office near the opposite end of the corridor. He had come straight to this office after making his telephone call.

Renny and Long Tom went to the door, put their ears against it and listened.

They heard nothing inside the office.

But they had not the slightest difficulty in hearing a man behind them say, “Two Sneaking Sams, eh?”

Renny and Long Tom spun. Then they batted their eyes as men somehow do when they unexpectedly find themselves looking into the muzzles of guns.

The man who had spoken was almost seven feet tall, stoop-shouldered, and very burly. He had hams on his shoulders and practically no neck. He looked like the kind of fellow who would be at home in a striped suit, a ball and chain attached to one ankle, and a rock-breaking sledge in his hands. But he was nattily attired, even to a gardenia in his lapel.

The automatic in his hand—a big military model—looked new. Several other men behind him held the same kind of guns.

“What are you doing here?” the stoop-shouldered man wanted to know.

“Have you got a good reason why we should answer your question?” asked Renny, who was easily enraged.

“I’ll give you an answer!” the man said, and stepped forward, lifting his gun to strike Renny.

That was his mistake. Renny’s pet boast was that he could smack the panel out of any wooden door with either fist. Renny hit the man.

The latter’s arms went up wildly as he sought to keep his balance. His automatic hit the ceiling, caromed off the wall. Long Tom caught it like a first baseman picking up a fast ball.

Two men slammed into Long Tom, banging him against the wall. Both grabbed his hand which had caught the gun. A man came up behind and whipped Long Tom over the ears with the flat of his gun. The man made faces and grunted as he whipped.

Renny rumbled, waded to Long Tom’s rescue. His big right hand got hold of an arm. He jerked. The arm got a bend in the wrong place. Men struck Renny, kicked at him.

One of the gang ran to the end of the corridor, yanked a huge brass fire extinguisher out of its clips, came back, and after two false starts, managed to bump Renny’s head with it. Renny fell down. Every one, except those holding Long Tom, fell on Renny, and it was soon over.

Every one lay still, or stood still, for a while, recovering their breath.

“These are two of Doc Savage’s crowd,” a man puffed finally.

The tall, stoop-shouldered man picked his gardenia from the floor and replaced it in his lapel.

“This may turn out to be a tough break for somebody,” he said.

The huge, stooped man then went to the door, turned the knob and went in.

“Why are you looking so scared for, Quietman?” he demanded, loudly.

Old Leander Quietman, who had evidently been crouching terrified in the office, croaked, “What—what—why, you are H. O. G. Coolins!”

Coolins swore, yelled, “Don’t use my name!”

“B-but why n-not?” Quietman gulped.

“Shut up and put your hands out!” Coolins ordered.

A moment later, the huge, stooped H. O. G. Coolins propelled Leander Quietman roughly out of the office.

Leander Quietman seemed dazed, and very puzzled.

“What do you w-want with me?” he stuttered.

“The Sea Angel is after you, isn’t it?” Coolins countered.

“Y-yes!” Quietman choked. “T-that’s why I was l-leaving the country!”

H. O. G. Coolins snorted grimly.

“It can’t be done unless I help you,” he said. “I was a prisoner, but escaped the Sea Angel. I swore I’d get even, and now’s my chance!”

One of the men said, “Hadn’t we better blow, boss?”

“Yes,” Coolins said. “We’ll go now.”

“W-why are you t-taking me?” old Quietman gulped.

“I’m going to destroy the Sea Angel,” Coolins said, grimly. “When I came back, I immediately got myself an organization. This is part of it that you see here. We’re going to finish the Sea Angel.”

“B-but——”

“The Sea Angel wants you,” Coolins stated. “We’re going to use you for bait.”

The men now got ready to go. Doc Savage’s two aides, Renny and Long Tom, who had taken all this in with silent astonishment, were bound and gagged.

“We’ll take them out by the freight elevator,” Coolins said. “It opens into an alley, and nobody will see us.”

Throughout the affair, there had been a man stationed on the stairs below. Renny and Long Tom had not known this, but they realized it the instant the lookout came stumbling into the hallway.

The lookout had the expression of a man being eaten alive by something invisible.

“The Sea Angel!” he croaked. “On the stairs!”

No small boy caught in a watermelon patch ever got into action quicker than did H. O. G. Coolins when he heard those words.

“Quick!” he snarled.

Old Quietman, Renny and Long Tom were seized instantly, rushed down the corridor toward the freight elevator. This lift was situated at the end of the corridor opposite the stairs.

But that delay had been a bit too much. There was a scraping and shuffling sound, and the Sea Angel came up the stairs.

Guns began crashing in the corridor. The bullets must have hit the weird monster; they could hardly have missed at that distance.

But lead had no effect on the creature!

The wings waved a little, then flapped, and the black tentacles whipped out. Each trapped a man.

Renny and Long Tom had never before heard men screech quite like those two did.

The victims fell, writhed, made awful noises. Obviously, they had been rendered helpless by some eerie power in the feelers.

Coolins left the two victims. He got the rest of his men and the prisoners into the freight elevator, banged the doors shut, sank the cage.

The loud breathing of the men was audible in the comparative quiet as the cage sank. It was the sound of a pack of hounds which had just run out of a scent.

Big-fisted Renny suddenly began to laugh. Being gagged, he had to laugh mostly through his nose. But he managed to get a lot of mirth out.

Science had explained everything, barring a few germs they couldn’t yet see with their compound microscopes. This Sea Angel, this monster, therefore, had to be some fellow dressed up in a trick outfit. That grown men should be scared out of their wits by such a thing was ridiculous.

Renny thought it was as funny as a barrel of monkeys.

The men had cars waiting at the freight-elevator entrance. The prisoners were dumped in, and the machines left with noisy haste. Renny still laughed.

H. O. G. Coolins slapped him.

“You remind me of the good laugh I had when I first saw the thing!” Coolins snarled. “I don’t like to think about it! I thought it was a man in an outfit. You think the same thing, I’ll bet. Well, it isn’t!”

“Whuz-zuhuhuz-wenn?” Renny said, which was the nearest he could come to, “What is it then?” talking through his nose.

“I’ve seen it fly!” Coolins snarled. “I’ve seen it swim under water, fifty miles an hour or more!”

The man’s eyes were glaring with earnestness. Looking at him, Renny suddenly decided he did not feel so much like laughing.

Coolins gritted, “It’s a monster! Bullets don’t hurt it much. I guess they’re not heavy enough. It can’t be gassed, so it must not breathe!”

He interrupted himself to snarl at the driver for more speed.

“But it’s got a brain, and can think!” Coolins groaned. “It’s more clever than any human being! I tell you, it’s something the like of which the world has never before known.”

The cars headed north along a waterfront street.

“Whatcha gonna do with Doc Savage’s two pals?” a man asked from the front seat.

“We’ll kill these two Doc Savage helpers as soon as we figure a way to dispose of the bodies,” Coolins said.