The Squeaking Goblin: A Doc Savage Adventure by Lester Dent (pseud. Kenneth Robeson)

Author:Lester Dent (pseud. Kenneth Robeson)
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: fiction, Doc Savage (Fictional character), adventure
Publisher: Distributed Proofreaders Canada
Published: 1934-06-15T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter X

THE GOBLIN KILLS

Outlined in the early light of the dawn, a canoe had appeared around a sheer outjutting of stone. It traveled swiftly, a tiny shell that rode as light as a cork atop the unending procession of waves. A paddle dipped frantically, throwing green water in a manner which showed the wielder of the blade was not an expert.

One man occupied the canoe, a man who was very tall, very blond—his hair, eyebrows, mustache, being almost white.

“Chelton Raymond!” Renny exploded.

“Ahoy the plane!” called the man in the canoe. “Are you Doc Savage?”

Doc’s powerful voice advised him his guess was correct. “Are you Chelton Raymond?” he asked.

“Right,” called the canoeman.

“Where have you been?” Doc shouted.

“Hiding close to my shack at the other end of the island,” Chelton Raymond said. “This canoe was lying in the brush there.”

A Coastal Agency detective muttered, “That’s Chelton Raymond, all right,” then yelled in a louder voice, “You-all O. K., Mr. Raymond?”

“Except for a few bruises, yes,” called Chelton Raymond.

The canoe was still some distance down the shore line, riding the waves, but coming closer.

Renny failed to contain his curiosity.

“What’s this all about, Mr. Raymond?” he called.

The man in the canoe stopped paddling, cupped his hands about his lips and yelled, “Up until an hour ago, I had no idea. Then, what may be the explanation came to me. I’ll tell you in a moment.”

He began paddling again.

Renny shouted, “Say, are you any kin to Frosta Raymond?”

Chelton Raymond, they could see even from that distance, started violently and held the paddle close to his chest.

“What do you know about Frosta Raymond?” he demanded.

“Only that she’s here with us,” Renny retorted, the power of his bellowing voice making it a simple matter to carry on a conversation over that distance.

“There with you!” Chelton Raymond’s voice was almost a scream. He sprang erect in the canoe.

“Sure,” Renny replied. “Say, why the excitement?”

Chelton Raymond seemed about to answer, but did not. His head dropped, eyes seeking the paddle in his hand vaguely, then his head turned slowly, and he seemed to be looking about while engaged in deep thought. Suddenly he emitted a piercing yell.

He leveled the paddle at the rocky shore, pointing.

“The Squeaking Goblin!” he screeched.

Renny peered at the spot Chelton Raymond was indicating. “Holy cow! Danged if I see the spook!”

“Behind that square rock!” Chelton Raymond howled. “He’s aiming his damned rifle at me!”

The square rock in question was easily distinguished in the early morning sunlight. It was very large, and its opposite side offered much shelter.

Doc and his men ran for the rock.

From the canoe, Chelton Raymond wailed, “The Goblin is going to shoot!”

Raymond then went through all of the gestures of a man who sees death as his lot in the immediate future. The blond man waved his arms, covered his eyes, then uncovered them hastily as if fearing to meet fate blindfolded.

“Dive overboard!” Doc called.

Chelton Raymond either did not hear or else was too terrified to take heed, for he did not

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