Peril in the North by Kenneth Robeson;Lester Dent

Author:Kenneth Robeson;Lester Dent
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Blackmask Online
Published: 2001-10-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter VIII. THE MAN IS MAD

THE man said, "I’m going to die." He spoke clearly, except for the whistling in his voice and the fact that his voice had no volume.

Because what the man knew about himself was the truth, Doc Savage made no answer.

"You go . . . go—" The man gurgled for a moment. His effort to speak was horrible. "Go north-northwest from Iceland, and—" He closed his eyes.

Doc Savage said, "North-northwest from Iceland—yes. Then what?"

The man mumbled some figures—degrees and minutes.

He was silent again.

"They’re there," he said. "Two hundred . . . hun—"

He was quiet again.

He said, "Louise, I didn’t mean it. Hello, mom. Hello, pop. Louise, I’m so glad to see you. I wanted to tell you how sorry—"

He did things that a dying man does then, and Pat put her hands over her eyes and turned away.

Doc Savage stood up.

"Dead?" asked Thomas J. Eleanor.

Doc nodded.

"He didn’t seem to know me," said Eleanor.

"Did you know him?"

Thomas J. Eleanor nodded. "One of my bodyguards."

"Bench Logan is another of your bodyguards?"

"Was—not is," corrected Eleanor.

There were sirens in the distance. Police cars, of course. The whole incredible procession of incidents had taken less than seven or eight minutes; and the police, usually more prompt, seemed to be a little late.

Uneasiness twisted Eleanor’s face. "Those sirens—the police, evidently," he said. "I have an enormous dislike of publicity. Is there any reason why we have to stay here?"

"Not necessarily," Doc said.

Pat got behind the wheel of the bronze car. The machine was one of Doc’s, an experimental model on which he had tried out new types of armor plating and gasproofing. As a fortress, it fell very little short of an army tank.

They drove away. Eleanor followed in his car.

The river was placid, and the fog still lifted from it like smoke. Darker tendrils of vapor, the smoke from the bombs Doc had used, were blowing across it. Nothing else was peaceful. The neighborhood was coming to life, sticking its collective head out of the window and bellowing demands as to just what had happened.

Doc Savage watched, in the rearview mirror, Eleanor’s car following behind them.

"Pat," he said.

Pat chuckled. "Don’t start grumbling about my getting mixed up in this," she said. "Renny got Monk and Ham to help him trail Bench Logan. Renny told me you wanted Long Tom and Johnny to show up here and help you, but he said he couldn’t contact them. Long Tom and Johnny are investigating this Thomas J. Eleanor, and they must be away from their radios. Well, I couldn’t get Long Tom and Johnny to come here and help, so I got worried. I came myself." She made a wry face. "I practically missed the whole thing."

"Where did you leave Nicky Jones?"

"The girl? Oh, I left her at headquarters. She’s scared. She’ll stay there."

"What makes you so sure of that?"

Pat shrugged. "Oh, she’s worried about her boy friend, Bill Browder. And now she’s scared something will happen to her. When Bench Logan tried to

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