Лестер Дент - Death in Silver

The office in which those who had been on the explosion scene were concentrated was the headquarters of a firm dealing in imported antiques and art works. Adjoining the office were numerous stock rooms holding pictures, armor, pieces of ancient furniture, weapons, costumes, and like articles. These were all antiques.

The newspaper reporters descended upon Monk and Ham. Both were high-pressure copy for it was known that they were members of Doc Savage's group of aides. And Doc was front-page news all 7 days of the week!

"Is Doc working on this?" a journalist connected with a tabloid demanded.

"No," said Monk, irked because the locust swarm of scribes were keeping Ham and himself from investigating. "Keep Doc out of it!"

The tabloid reporter ran to a telephone and informed his city editor, "Two of the famous Doc Savage's men are on the spot and working on the mystery explosion. They deny that Doc himself is interested. But we don't need to mention that. Doc's name in this will make it all the bigger."

"Our 'pals'!" Monk growled.

Modern newspapers function with breath-taking speed. And while the reporters were still harassing Monk and Ham, Extra editions of their sheets arrived.

Monk snatched one of these and retired with Ham to a stockroom — the walls of which were hung with the work of old masters — to see how much Doc had been brought into the affair.

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They expected to see the blast story occupying a whole page of the tabloid. But to their surprise, it divided honors with another yarn.

"I say," said Ham, who affected a pronounced Harvard accent whenever he thought of it. "Those Silver Death's-Head beggars have been acting again."

They read the big black headlines and the news story below them. The thing was almost childishly dramatic, as written.

SILVER DEATH'S-HEADS STRIKE

MYSTERY MEN ROB ARMORED CAR

Get a Quarter Million In Loot Vanish As Usual

The terror in silver is with New York again. At 3 o'clock this afternoon, these frightful men of mystery shot down the drivers and guard of an armored truck in the streets of Manhattan and took $250,000.00 in cash.

Accounts of the number of robbers vary. Some spectators say there were 20; others claim only 5-or-6. The robbers escaped in a fast car and evaded police pursuit in the waterfront section of the East River.

The thieves wore silver -colored suits and weird silver hoods which made their beads resemble skulls. This description tallies with the gang which has committed other robberies and murders and which is known to the police as the Silver Death's-Heads .

The last crime committed by the Silver Death's-Heads was the cold-blooded sinking of the liner Avallancia — pride of the Transatlantic Company — in New York harbor.

Bedford Burgess Gardner — president of the Transatlantic Company — has not been able to explain what motive could have been behind the sinking of the Avallancia .

"Wild stuff," commented Monk.

"Typical newspaper sensationalism," Ham clipped, agreeing with Monk because he still resented being questioned by the reporters. " Silver Death's-Heads ! Imagine that! What rot!"

"Too melodramatic to have much foundation in truth," Monk added. "I doubt if there are really any men called the Silver Death's-Heads . This particular tabloid colors its news to beat the band."

The 2 men had been making no effort to pitch their voices low. And a number of the Seven Seas office employees huddled in the room of the antique dealer overheard what was being said. Among those who could not help but catch the words was Clarence Sparks.

Mention of the Silver Death's-Heads caused Clarence to stiffen visibly … then look undecided. He hesitated, mustering up his nerve. As yet, he had not told any one of what he had overheard outside the door of Paine L. Winthrop's private office. But hearing Monk state his belief that there were no such individuals as Silver Death's-Heads apparently moved Clarence to speak. He sidled over to Monk and Ham.

"You … you gentlemen are mistaken," he said hesitantly.

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Monk squinted at the receding chin and the none-too-robust physique of Sparks.

"You know something?" he asked.

Clarence Sparks moistened his lips nervously. "I … I hope this won't get me into trouble," he muttered.

Monk and Ham were both intensely interested.

"Spill it!" Monk directed.

The Seven Seas billing clerk swelled his thin chest with a full breath of resolution.

"I was eavesdropping outside Paine L. Winthrop's door," he said in a voice which excitement made loud. "I heard him make the telephone call which was directly responsible for his death."

"Blazes!" Monk exploded. "Then it was a murder, huh?"

Clarence Sparks clenched his fists and said, "It certainly was!"

"Who was Winthrop talkin' to?" Monk demanded.

"To the secret mastermind of the Silver Death's-Heads ," Clarence gulped.

"For the love of mud!" said Monk. "What was his name?"

Clarence Sparks almost yelled, "I heard Winthrop say over the telephone that it was … "

That was the last word Clarence Sparks spoke. Although not the last sound he made for his mouth suddenly flew open to its widest and let a terrific scream rip out. It was as if the scream had burst out, destroying his vocal cords. The yell rasped and was unnatural.

Clarence Sparks put his arms stiffly above his head in the manner of an aboriginal saluting the Sun. Then he turned slowly, trembling and on tiptoe. When he had his back to Monk and Ham, they could see the feathered shaft of the arrow which protruded from his back!

Because Clarence Sparks was thin and poorly, his body made a clattering sound as it fell to the floor. After he fell the stiffness seemed to go out of his thin frame, his head rolled over slackly until his cheek pressed the floor and — with a bubbling rush — scarlet came from Iris mouth and nostrils.

But Monk and Ham were not watching the phenomena incidental to Death . They were staring at the archer who had discharged the arrow — an archer in silver — a being so grotesque of appearance that they were held stunned.

The archer was not a large man. IF he was a man! He was shorter than Ham, who was not tall. And he was also scrawny with thin arms and gnarled legs.

His garb was the strange, the gripping thing. It was silver! The cloth was of the metallic stuff such as is used to make the stage costumes of showgirls. And it was cut in one garment — a coverall.

There was a hood over the head — also of silver — elastic and tight-fitting. Because eye and mouth openings were dark against the shiny metallic hood, the affair had the aspect of a death's-head— a silver skull . A costly wristwatch adorned one of his pipestem arms.

The silver archer stood in the door of an adjacent office, holding a heavy medieval bow, evidently one of the antiques which filled the rooms. He dropped the bow, it thumping loudly as it fell. Then he leaped backward.

The movement snapped Monk and Ham out of their trance. They dived headlong in pursuit. But the killer slammed the door; a key clinked among the tumblers. Flinging against the panel, Doc Savage's 2 aides found it solidly resistant.