White Eyes by Kenneth Robeson

Author:Kenneth Robeson [Robeson, Kenneth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Doc Savage: #185 - "White Eyes
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Doc Savage: #185- "White Eyes"

XVIII - The Ubiquitous Radio

He placed the radio on an unused workbench and released the animal (it was a small tail-less ape of some sort) which immediately gave vent to a tiny howl and went chasing the pig Habeas Corpus around in manic circles.

Doc Savage immediately shut off his experiment.

"You unmitigated clothes horse!" Monk howled over the din. "Why'd you bring that … that unclassifiable here?"

"My good man," Ham sniffed. "Chemistry is not unclassifiable. In fact, there is every reason to suspect that you and he share a common ancestry."

Which was certain plausible if outer appearances alone were a yardstick of Biology.

For the creature busily bedeviling Monk's pig was a rust-hued miniature version of the simian chemist himself. Ham had acquired him during an adventure in a South American jungle [read "Dust of

Death (#032) ]. Smitten by the unknown anthropoid's resemblance to Monk Mayfair, he adopted it.

Chemistry had only entered the country a few months before and had not yet adjusted to his first winter. Hence, Ham had taken to leaving him for his own good at the exclusive Park Avenue club where the dapper lawyer resided.

"You're one to talk about ancestors," Monk retorted hotly, "considering that you have a pirate in your woodpile."

"I do not!" Ham insisted, shaking his dark cane in Monk's homely visage.

"Black Jack Brooks," Monk recited. "Born in London, 1799. And hung as a pirate on his birthday in 1842 in Norfolk, Virginia. He was a cutthroat, a pillager, and a rogue."

Monk grinned widely.

"In short, a Brooks through-and-through."

"A slander!" Ham howled. "I'll sue!"

"They had the right idea in those days," Monk went on. "Hanging the really bad ones. Too bad the modern-day version of the pirate -- a.k.a. the lawyer -- can't be treated to the same medicine."

Ham Brooks shut his mobile orator's mouth with bear-trap suddenness. He looked like a man chewing his own tongue. His face slowly purpled.

"You … you …" he sputtered/

Doc Savage then broke in.

"Ham, the radio?"

"Yes, Doc," Ham said with effort, his empurpled features slowly returning to their natural coloring.

archived at http://www.stealthskater.com/DocSavage.htm

128

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