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DOC SAVAGE

Monk gave it more. He yelled: “Hey, a door-to-door salesman for two years, fore-you gotta gadget that’ll destroy the transmit-man in a chemical plant until the plant went ter!”

bust—two years and one month, that was—The Macs got up from the floor with and for the remaining five months, the most sheepish looks and—but this went away recent, he had played the stock market at a quickly—about the same surprise they would profit.

have had if they had been shot at. When the McCutcheon’s life had been simpler.

surprise left, cupidity took its place. They He’d made a living off the stock market all looked at the gimmick in the suitcase. Loving five years.

looks. I didn’t understand why they should be The two Macs had met in a broker’s of-so affectionate.

fice one day when they both had a stock that Savage switched the device off.

shot up ten points, and having this in com-McGraff said, “You mean that thing will mon had led to friendship.

blow up his transmitter?”

Savage made no comment about these I waited for things to pick up. McGraff professions being hard ones to check on. But had said his. He had professed not to know he did pass the information along to the po-anything like that. . . . But Savage said noth-lice, and let the Macs hear him doing it.

ing, and there was a weight on my toe, about He could be scaring them.

half a ton, as Monk Mayfair put his foot there.

Miss Fenisong’s attitude had under-Apparently I was supposed to be silent.

gone a change I didn’t like. She had grown Savage, replying to McGraff, said, “You cold toward us, and friendly in a we-know-saw what happened.”

something-that-you-don’t way with the Macs.

“You knew it would?”

I was not allowed much time to worry about “Certainly.”

this, however. Things, which had been slow, “How far will the thing do that? I began picking up.

mean—how close to the other gadget would Monk and Ham left to learn whether you have to be?”

there was a delicatessen in the neighborhood

“Possibly a greater range than two that would provide enough for our dinners.

hundred feet would not be effective,” Savage Five minutes later, the telephone rang, said. “By the way, I demonstrated the thing Savage answered it, and said, “Yes, I sup-so you will understand that we now have a pose I can come down.” He hung up and told weapon. In case any of you should need to Miss Fenisong, the Macs and myself: “The use the thing, I’ll show you how to turn it on.”

police have something they want to discuss. .

. . Sammy, will you take any phone calls and look after things. I’ll be back, probably, in half Chapter IX

an hour or a trifle over.”

“Sure,” I agreed. “You think we’re in BY six o’clock the police hadn’t found any danger?”

Spatny. The old giant had disappeared—

“It’s quite possible,” he said. “That is personally I had been thinking maybe the why I have insisted on sticking around here black scare-baby had carried him away or all day.” He frowned at the Macs and added, digested him or disintegrated him or some-

“You two will stay here, you understand. I thing, but if there was any fact in Savage’s believe this matter the police wish to discuss show with the contraption, Spatny’s fate had concerns you—possibly the fact they can’t probably been more normal. I didn’t know seem to corroborate your version of your how much fact there had been in Savage’s whereabouts for the past five years.”

show. Possibly not too much.

“I’ll hold the fort,” I said.

Nor had the police dug up anything on Savage went out, got in the elevator, McGraff and McCutcheon—anything the and I returned to the reception room—which Macs liked, at least. The cops had learned so lived up to its name. They had the reception remarkably little that they were beginning to all ready for me.

wonder; they wanted a detailed account of It was short, but not sweet. The room—the lives of both Macs for the last five years.

everything—turned the color of nothing at all.

Savage said he would get it for them.

I read somewhere once that an astronomer McGraff said he had been, beginning said that if you could get to a place where five years ago, a truck driver for six months, there was nothing—no matter, life nor soul—

NO LIGHT TO DIE BY