Doc Savage - The Man Who Shook The Earth Part 3

They rode an elevator to the top floor, strode down a corridor carpeted as richly as Doc's own office, andpunched a doorbell.

The door opened.

Monk took one look inside. He emitted a resounding groan, and covered his eyes dramatically with his hands.

"Take it away!" He wailed in mock agony. "It's so flashy it's hurting my eyes. It's going to blind me!"

Through the door swung the end of a slender black cane. Monk ceased his dramatics and dodged. The cane barely missed connecting with his head.

The man with the cane stepped out as if to take a fresh swing. He was a slender man, thin-waisted as a wasp. He had a sharp nose and a pair of intent eyes. They were the eyes of a quick thinker.

The outstanding thing about the fellow was his clothing. His garb was the absolute ultra in sartorial perfection.

Ham was famous for his clothes, wearing them with a grace that could hardly be duplicated.

Monk retreated, chuckling. The fact that there was a mystery underfoot, and that a man had just been kidnaped downstairs, had not kept him from flinging a dig at Ham. Even the stress of trouble could not stop his good-natured baiting of Ham.

Ham's black cane looked innocent enough. Actually, it housed a blade of fine steel. It was a very efficient sword cane.

Doc explained what had occurred-the visit of Velvet to the office, the decoying of John Acre to the Midas Club, and the kidnaping. He ended with: "Know anything about it, Ham?"

"Not a thing," Ham declared.

"But why did they use this address?" Monk demanded.

"It was clever on the fake newspaper reporter's part," Doc decided aloud. "He gave Ham's address, in case the man he was deceiving might check up. I often visit Ham here. It was logical to suppose I might wish to meet him here."

Monk scratched his jaw, his head, and ended up by putting the tip of his little finger through the bullet hole in his ear.

"How in blazes are we going to find out what this is all about?"

"There's the steamship Junio," Doc said. "John Acre arrived on it tonight. Apparently he sent the messages from on board."

Doc went to the telephone and dialed a number. He spoke into the instrument for some seconds. His voice was so low that Monk and Ham did not catch the words. Then he hung up.

"I got in touch with the captain of the Junio ," he explained. "Here's a strange one: The Junio's radio operator is a fellow named Coils. He disappeared a few minutes after the steamer docked. They can't find him anywhere."

"Where is the Junio from?" Ham inquired.

"From ports on the west coast of South America," Doc explained.

Ham twirled his sword cane absently. His eyes roved. They came to a rest on the door. It gaped open a crack.

"Who left that door open?" he growled.

He started forward as if to close the panel. The door was ajar hardly more than an inch, but the crack widened suddenly. A businesslike pistol muzzle shoved through."I'd hate to muss up that pretty suit," a woman's voice said

HAM wrenched to a stop, his sword cane extended rigidly. He turtled his head forward as if to see who was behind the door.

"Don't strain your eyes!" said the woman's voice. "I'm coming in."

She stepped across the threshold.

Monk emitted a great gasp. Monk appreciated a pretty girl. This one made his head swim.

From the waist upward her slender body looked as if it were fitted in a tight skin of gold; below the waist the gold cloth fitted almost as snugly. Her hair was evidently boyish-bobbed. It bulged hardly at all under a plain gold-colored helmet. Her small feet were shod in golden-hued slippers. The whole was a wonderful evening ensemble. The effect was amazing.

Her face had an entrancing beauty which seemed to fit in perfectly with her exotic evening attire.

Monk drew in the breath which his sigh had expelled. He seemed to realize for the first time that the astounding young woman held a gun. It was a big, blue .45-caliber army automatic.

From the gun, Monk looked to the girl's clinging gown. The exotic golden garment exposed just about every ravishing curve. She carried a costly looking fur evening wrap over her left arm.

No doubt she had entered the Midas Club with the gun concealed under the wrap.

"You gentlemen," said the girl, "will put your hands up."

Her voice was like the ringing of a small bell in the distance. It was pleasant to hear.

"Are you sure you're not in the wrong pew?" Ham asked her. "We never saw you before."

The young woman in the stunning, golden evening gown did not answer. She was eyeing Doc.

She seemed fascinated by him. That was understandable. Men, when they saw the astounding physique of the bronze giant, noticed only that. Women, however, were apt to observe that Doc was extremely handsome.

The girl in gold was discovering the latter fact.

A minute pa.s.sed, then another. The striking young woman was still staring at Doc.

Doc Savage slowly lifted an arm. He leveled it, rigid as a metal bar, at the young woman's pert nose. The arm remained fixed, unmoving, pointing.

Monk and Ham exchanged glances in a knowing way. They had been a.s.sociated with Doc Savage long enough to become acquainted with some of the many arts which the bronze man commanded. They knew he was a master of hypnotism, so they understood what Doc's arm-leveling gesture meant.

Doc was hypnotizing the girl in gold.

For the most successful functioning of hypnotism, it is necessary that the subject's attention be fixed on something. It is also very difficult to hypnotize an unwilling patient.

The young woman suddenly awakened to what Doc was doing. She wrenched her eyes from the bronze man's strange golden orbs, and sprang backward. She slapped herself violently in the face.

Monk started forward with the idea of seizing her gun while she was occupied with breaking Doc's spell. But the girl jabbed her weapon at him."You come a step closer, and I'll blow a hole in that ugly face!" she declared.

"Go ahead," the sharp-tongued Ham invited her. "Any thing, even a hole, would be an improvement over the face as it is."

Monk ignored the insult.

"Where have you taken John Acre?" demanded the girl. Monk and Ham started slightly.

"Don't ask me," Ham e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed.

"Huh?" Monk grunted.

"It seems the young lady is in the right pew after all," Doc offered.

The beauty in gold eyed them coldly over the gun.

"Then you do admit having him!"

"You're mistaken," Doc told her.

The young woman plainly did not wish to chance looking at Doc again. She was afraid of his hypnotic powers, yet his mighty bronze figure drew repeatedly her unwilling gaze.

"John Acre called me and told me he was coming here!" she snapped.

"Did he ask you to meet him here?" Doc questioned.

The girl hesitated. "No-but I came anyway. There were some things I wanted to ask him."

"We do not know where John Acre is," Doc told her.

"Liar!" rapped the girl.

DOC fell silent. There was one subject about which he did not possess universal knowledge. Personally, he believed it was impossible to ever learn much about the topic. The subject of his deficiency was-women.

Doc did know enough about the fair s.e.x to realize there was no use in arguing. She thought he was a liar, and that was that.

"Where is John Acre?" demanded the girl, putting a grim emphasis on each word.

Doc said nothing. Monk and Ham said nothing. Monk frankly stared. At the moment, the homely chemist could not remember having seen a more gorgeous bit of femininity.

The young woman rolled her eyes to keep them away from Doc. Her gaze touched upon various objects of furniture, returning frequently to the men to make sure they made no overt move.

A wastebasket stood near a comfortable chair and a reading lamp. A folded, discarded newspaper projected from the basket.

Two words of a headline were visible: EARTHQUAKE IN-.

The sight of the two words in the headline had a strange effect on the girl. Horror came upon her face. Her throat tightened visibly.

Doc, Monk, and Ham exchanged glances. The headline had stricken the girl with terror. It had to be the headline-from where she stood, only the larger type was readable.The girl sank by the wastebasket. She seemed to have forgotten Doc and the other two. She wrenched the newspaper from the basket, and spread it open.

"In Chile!" she gasped. "And it got another of them!"

"Another of who?" Doc demanded.

The girl made no answer.

Doc glanced at Monk. "Remember the telephone conversation recorded on the wax record?" he asked.

"Sure," Monk grunted. "There was something said about mysterious earthquakes."

"What's behind this?" Doc asked the young woman in gold.

The girl arose. Although they had made no effort to seize her while she was so interested in the newspaper headline about earthquakes, she again pointed her big automatic at them.

"You're wasting your time trying to make me think you do not know what it is all about," she declared.

Monk shrugged impatiently. He waved a furry hand in Doc's direction. "Do you know who this bronze fellow is, young lady?"

"He's the notorious Doc Savage," the girl snapped.

Monk bristled with indignation. "Listen, goldie! Doc has done more good in this world than any fifty other men you can name. His life work is to go all over the world-"

"Save it!" said the girl in gold. "I've heard of him. He's always in trouble. Well, if you don't tell me where John Acre is, you're going to have trouble!"

Monk subsided. He had supposed there were people in New York who were not acquainted with the true nature of Doc Savage's work-his career of righting wrong, of punishing evildoers-but this was the first such person he had met in some time.

"What is your name?" Doc asked the girl unexpectedly.

"Tip Galligan." She did not hesitate about giving it. "Helen Tipperary Galligan, to be exact."

Ham began: "Well, Helen-"

"I don't like gigolos," snapped the girl unkindly, eyeing Ham's sartorially perfect attire. "Anyway, the name is Tip."

"Why does that earthquake headline scare you, Tip?" Doc asked her.

She did not answer that. Instead she thrust out her small jaw fiercely.

"I've heard that you have five men who help you," she said angrily. "I guess this pair here are two of them. I'm going to tell you something: Either you release John Acre, or I'll grab your other three friends and hold them until you do cough up!"

MONK was grinning from ear to ear. For some reason he could not have explained, he was delighted that the young lady in gold did not like the dapper Ham.

"She sounds violent," Monk said cheerfully.

"I am violent, too!" "Tip" a.s.sured him.

"I think we would all get along better if you put your gun away," Doc suggested."I don't," said Tip, and waved her gun carelessly.

Doc Savage looked at the ceiling. His lips moved. Strange words came forth. They were guttural words and rather musical, but absolutely unintelligible to Tip.

Monk and Ham made no reply, but it was plain that they understood the weird vernacular. Both men did an unusual thing. They began to hold their breaths.

"Listen, you three," Tip hissed. "You can't pull anything on me. Don't try-"