Кеннет Робсон - Death in Silver

Doc followed the trail. It grew a bit fainter for the powder would soon wear off the shoe soles of the quarry. The tracks progressed down into the basement.

The basement floor was of concrete. A large furnace stood in a corner and insulated steam pipes stretched about like the tentacles of an octopus. There were barrels, boxes, and a bin holding coal.

The glowingtracks led to a barrel which stood against one wall.

"Stand back," Doc warned and moved the barrel.

At first, it seemed there was solid concrete below. But a closer scrutiny revealed a circular manhole — its lines intended to be concealed by the mark the barrel bottom had made on the floor.

With a heel, Doc put weight on various parts of the lid. It hinged up, uncovering a cavity so black that it resembled a puddle of drawing ink.

The thin flashlight beam showed a room below with a ladder leading down. Walls and floor of the subterranean recess were lined with bricks. There was a table, chairs, a rack holding numerous silver garments, opened cases of sub-machine-gun ammunition, and other boxes holding rapid-firers and hand grenades.

But there was no sign of the silver men.

Doc descended the ladder after searching to make sure there were no trick triggers or death traps.

On the rack of silver garments, 4 metallic regalias lay askew as if hastily cast there. Doc lifted them curiously.

One was crimson-stained, still wet.

"Discarded by the man Monk shot in the leg," Doc decided.

He stood hefting the silver cloaks curiously.

- — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Upstairs, Monk was shifting from one foot to the other as he watched the rear door. Monk believed there would be action below. And he hated to miss it. He peered into the alley, listened, then withdrew to the stairway that led down into the basement and strained his ears.

He did not hear anything from the basement. Instead, he caught a faint sound from the direction of the front door where Hugh McCoy was functioning as lookout. Monk hesitated.

"McCoy," he called softly.

There was no answer. Gripping his captured submachine gun, Monk eased toward the front. McCoy should have been just inside. But he was not there! Monk peered out into the street.

It was some seconds before he caught an indefinite blur moving away from the Indian Head Club, keeping in the shadow of the buildings. With a silence remarkable for a man of such bulk, Monk floated down the steps, glided a dozen yards, took a deliberate aim with his weapon, and invited, "Whoever you are, stand still!"

The figure was silent so long that it seemed there was going to be no answer.

"Speak up!" Monk growled.

"You dope!" said McCoy's voice. "They'll hear you!"

"Who?"

"The 4 silver men!" grated McCoy. "1 just saw them sneaking up the street."

"Wait here," Monk grated. "Doc will want to know about this!"

The homely chemist whipped back into the Indian Head Club, went halfway down the basement stairs, and barked, "Doc! McCoy just seen the 4 birds pulling a sneak!"

Monk saw Ham and Pace race for the stairs, then saw Doc appear from the round hole in the basement floor. He waited for no more and pitched back outside to aid McCoy.

McCoy was not where Monk had left him. Deciding the financial counselor had gone ahead so as not to lose sight of the quarry, Monk scuttled up the street. He gained the corner and discerned no sign of McCoy.

Monk looked around to see if Doc and the others were following him … and saw the most stupendous display of pyrotechnics he had ever witnessed.

The ground seemed to sink several inches under Monk's feet, then jump straight up! Simultaneously, there was a sound as if a firecracker had gone off in each ear. Blood-red light flooded his eyes, blinding him.

Against the lurid glow, Monk saw Doc, Ham, and Pace outlined. The trio were not running but seemed to be flying through the air, carried by an invisible force from behind. Then the force of the explosion reached Monk … slapped him like an unseen Colossus … and he was knocked sprawling.

Dazed and unable to hear because the blast had temporarily deafened his ears, Monk managed to land on all fours. Peering upward, he saw copings toppling off buildings. Window glass was falling like brittle snow. Walls began to come down.

Down by the Indian Head Club — or rather, where it had been — a mound of flame and debris was climbing toward the sky.

Monk began to crawl. Then something happened to the top of his head. Things turned very black in front of his eyes … and all noise of the uproar left him.

- — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Monk's next connection with the material world was a briskly calloused voice saying, "No ordinary brick could do anything to that head of Monk's! He'll be all right in a minute."

Unable to think coherently, Monk asked, "Where's Habeas?"

"There you are!" said Ham. "Thinking of that pet pig ahead of everybody else! We left the pig at your laboratory."

"Yeah?" Monk got his wits together. "I sure wasn't worrying about you, shyster! Say, what happened? The last I remember, Vesuvius seemed to turn loose."

"That was no more than a minute ago!" Ham snapped. "Take a look at the Indian Head Club."

Realizing he was facing away from the club, Monk turned himself around with his hands, still in a seated position. A great glare caused him to close his eyes tightly.

Where the Indian Head Club had been there was a tower of flame that moaned and squirmed fully 200 feet in the air. Waves of heat shoved against his face.

"Say, what could burn like that?" Monk gulped.

"Chemicals," Doc Savage said quietly. "There must have been a mine under the place, charged with an inflammable chemical in addition to explosive."

"Them 4 silver devils must have lit the fuse and were beating it when McCoy saw them!" Monk reared up shakily. "Say, where did McCoy go?"

"No sign of him," Doc advised.

Rapid Pace — standing in the background dabbing at various minor cuts — snapped, "I do not trust that McCoy! No, sir! He is a very smooth man."

"If he hadn't discovered those silver lads skipping out, it would have been just too bad for us," Monk growled.

Down the street, a weaving figure appeared. It was a man. He was staggering, keeping both hands pressed to his head. His clothing was torn, and dust fell from him when he stumbled.

When he was close, they saw that it was Hugh McCoy.

"Where did the 4 silver men go?" Doc asked sharply.

McCoy looked at them painfully, still holding his head.

"How would I know!" he snapped. "Part of a wall fell on me. I've been unconscious."

- — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The flames from the Indian Head Club ruin seemed to be climbing higher. Gory tongues of fire detached themselves and shot upward hundreds-of-feet. The howling bedlam of the blaze made conversation difficult.

To escape the searing heat, Doc and his men retreated. From all around them came the wall of fire sirens. But none of the apparatus was yet in sight.

Eying the flames , Doc Savage decided. "It will be a good many hours before we can get into that ruin to do any investigating. Come on! We have something to do besides watching the fireworks."