[Doc Savage 138] The Shape of Terror

Author:Lester Dent
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-05-17T16:19:55+00:00

THEY got away. They moved out into the channel. No one said a word until a few marker buoys had slipped by. The old engine thumped and coughed, and the smokestack jiggled and squeaked a little on its hinges.

The old bargeman sighed. It was as if he had pulled a knife out of his flesh.

“The fools!” he said. “The great, the wonderful master race!” He spat.

Letecka said, “How did you—how did you know what to do?”

“I recognized you,” the old man said. “I knew your father. I remember seeing you.”

“That was lucky.”

“It was very lucky,” the old bargeman agreed. “It was one of those things that shows there are things greater than any of us. It was beautiful luck.”

Doc said, “I trust I did not hurt you too much?”

The old fellow laughed. “No more than I hurt you with that cane, I’ll wager. It was not a time for fooling.”

The old man was obviously a Czech patriot. Doc heard Letecka speak to him, turning the conversation rather unexpectedly to the weather. There were evidently key words in this weather talk, because Letecka smiled and gripped the old fellow’s hand.

“He is of the Underground,” she told Doc. “He will help us if we wish any help.”

“It is still better for us to go alone, I think,” Doc said.

The old man heard that. He nodded. “There has been a horrifying record of failure in this matter,” he said. “There are leaks in our Underground. There are always leaks; we have been plugging leaks with bullets ever since this madness came to Bohemia. But this time the leaks are very high and very terrible. It has been so futile.”

Startled, Doc said, “You sound as if you know why we are here?”

“Naturally it would be Johann Kovic.”

“Is it that widely known?”

The old man shrugged. “Everyone in the Underground knows it. Gestapo men have flowed into Prague like water of an ocean.”

The old man was silent, thoughtful, for a few moments. He evidently expected Doc to say more, but Doc didn’t. The old man sighed.

“You had better get Johann Kovic, or the world will lose its soul,” the old man said.

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