The green eagle by Kenneth Robeson

Author:Kenneth Robeson [Robeson, Kenneth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Adventure
Publisher: Bantam Books
Published: 1941-12-14T07:00:00+00:00

AFTER the attendant had revived sufficiently to get to his feet and stumble off toward the caretaker’s building to report the ghoulish raid, Doc Savage and the others went back to their car. There did not seem to be anything more they could do.

Hicky wrinkled her forehead. "This is strange. Hubert Brackenridge’s body is important in some way. Those men—whoever they are in the station wagon—were obviously following us."

Johnny started, looked at Doc Savage, asked, "Were they trailing us, Doc?"

"Not trailing us," the bronze man said positively. "They were smoother than that. They were probably checking the scene of the accident to see if we were investigating—they no doubt drove by periodically to examine the spot. As soon as they saw we were investigating, they beat us to the cemetery and got the body."

"But why?" Hicky demanded.

Doc Savage seemed not to hear the question.

The young woman looked so irritated at Doc’s silence that Renny smiled slightly. He knew that Doc had a small habit of appearing not to hear questions which he did not wish to answer.

"Probably," Renny said dryly, "they murdered Hubert Brackenridge. And wanted to prevent us finding out that he was murdered."

"That would account for it," Hicky admitted.

The car rolled on to the main boulevard, and suddenly the radio burst into life. Monk’s voice came out of the transmitter, and it was strained.

"Doc!" Monk croaked. "Get over to Mira Lanson’s apartment house as quick as you can."

Renny grabbed the microphone, demanded, "Monk, what’s happened?"

"You get over here quick," Monk said.

"Is Ham all right?" Renny demanded.

"No, he isn’t," Monk said.

Doc Savage tramped down heavily on the accelerator, and their car began to make a noise like a deep-throated foghorn blowing softly. Doc touched a button, and a siren under the hood began to howl. Red warning lights glowed on the bumpers. It seemed a remarkably short time—possibly because the passengers had involuntarily held their breaths part of the trip—before Doc rolled the machine into a side street.

Monk dashed out to meet them.

With Monk was a thin man of hardly average height who had a remarkably mushroomlike complexion. He was Major Thomas J. Long Tom Roberts, and despite the fact that he looked like a hopeful prospect for an undertaker, his health was amazingly good, almost as good as his fighting ability. He was conceded to be one of the world’s great electrical wizards.

Monk did the talking.

"Trouble hit us without warning," the homely chemist explained. "We were watching this Mira Lanson, and nothing suspicious had happened, so there was no warning."

"I was out back putting a tap on the telephone," Long Tom put in.

"And I was on the roof of the building next door," Monk said, "rigging a spot where we could watch the front of the house without being seen."

"Holy cow!" Renny exclaimed. "Cut out the preliminary talk and tell us what happened."

"A station wagon drove up, and four men got out," Monk said. "The four rushed in and seized Mira Lanson. They dragged her out, threw her in the station wagon and drove off.

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