The Secret of the Sun 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. SU

MONK MAYFAIR and Ham Brooks, waiting to hear from Doc Savage, had beached their plane on a small spit of sand on Lower Matecumbe Key, staking the craft out in the shallow water of the dredged harbor near the store which stood near the Key West highway bridge to the next island to the south. They had brought along a portable radio, and were fishing to occupy time. Fishing and quarreling.

“I heard a plane off to the north earlier,” Monk said. “Wonder if it was that Snuffy Gonner's gang?”

“What you heard was probably just the murmuring in something empty, like when you hold a seashell to your ear. Meaning your head.”

Monk sneered. “You're slipping. That wasn't very funny.”

Ham was untangling a hand fishing line.

“You know, you're an insulting, low-browed ape.”

“I'm not a bad guy.”

“You've got more lowbrow traits than anybody I ever saw.” Ham sighed. “Brother, I'm afraid I'll never meet you in heaven. “

“Yeah? What have you been doing now?”

Ham thought that over. “That was an insult.”

“Sure. My head doesn't roar like a seashell, either.”

Monk carefully adjusted the radio. The outfit was tuned to the short-wave frequency which Doc and his aides used. Monk clicked on the transmitter and tried a tentative, “Hello, Doc. You around?” Then he listened attentively for an answer that did not come.

They made no comment about the lack of response. But both were worried. They baited the hand fishing lines, and began to fish. The fact that they did not resume their quarrel indicated that their concern was not a small matter.

“I wonder,” Monk muttered, “what happened to Doc?”

“Our orders are to sit here until we hear from Doc over the radio.” Ham yanked angrily at a nibbling fish and didn't get it.

SCHLITZE and Satz had gone off to Everglades, their plan being to seize Dr. Light and Slow John.

All the time they had been gone, a man had been systematically deviling Renny Renwick. For some reason which was a mystery to Renny, they had decided that he was the one of the prisoners whose spirit could be most easily broken. They might have gotten this conviction from looking at Renny's long, unutterably sad face; he didn't know. But he had been letting them think they were breaking his courage. Doc had said to give in to them.

Pat and Long Tom and Johnny were lashed hand and foot, and gagged, near where Renny was being plagued. Just now, a man was carefully chipping the heads from kitchen matches and wedging them under Renny's fingernails, saying that he was going to light them. Renny could guess how it would feel, and he was sweating.

“You're going to talk,” the man told Renny. “You're going to tell us all you know.

You'll sing like a canary.”

Renny was careful not to use his normal rumbling voice, which was distinctive enough that it might reveal his identity. “You sound like a guy who got his ideas about being tough by listening to movies.”

The Nazi agent grinned so that his teeth flashed in the moonlight.

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