Read Online Doc Savage: Glare of the Gorgon (The Wild Adventures of Doc Savage Book 19) by Kenneth Robeson, Lester Dent, Will Murray - Free Book Online Page B
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is full of unusual substances, and not all of them had been tested by man. The big bronze giant was a master of chemistry, as he was of electricity, aeronautics, medicine and virtually every other field of endeavor.
If Doc Savage did not recognize something, it was a fair bet that no other scientist on the planet would have.
As Monk absorbed this, his tiny eyes grew narrow and his mouth came back under his control.
“Blazes!” he squeaked unexpectedly. “You don’t suppose that this stuff is not of this earth?”
“While we can suppose nothing of the kind,” replied Doc evenly, “neither should we rule out the possibility. This matter, whatever it is, does not belong to the existing fund of modern scientific knowledge.”
That last comment almost took Monk Mayfair’s breath away; he did not know what to say for the longest time. Finally, he managed, “Maybe I had better take a look at the residue in that barrel downstairs.”
“Be very careful,” cautioned the bronze man. “We are a long way from knowing what we are dealing with.”
“I’ll tell a man!” Monk said fervently.
As the homely chemist sought the elevator, Doc Savage joined Ham Brooks in the reception room and asked, “Have you discovered anything of interest?”
Ham nodded. “The police have managed to trace the telephone call that Ned Gamble made from the Hotel Paramount upon his arrival. He called a Chicago number, and spoke with a woman named Janet Falcon.”
Interest flickered in the bronze man’s golden eyes.
“Did you get the telephone number?”
Ham tore a slip of paper off a notepad and proffered it to Doc Savage.
The bronze man took the sheet, glanced at it briefly and the number was instantly committed to his indelible memory.
Picking up a telephone, Doc Savage connected with the building switchboard operator and recited the phone number from memory.
After five rings, a nervous but professional sounding female voice asked, “Hello?”
“This is Doc Savage in New York. Am I speaking to Janet Falcon?”
“Yes, yes, you are,” the woman said eagerly. “Have you met with my fiancé?”
“What is his name?” countered Doc.
“Why, Ned Gamble. He was going to visit you.”
Doc Savage did not hesitate. “Your fiancé did arrive at my headquarters for the appointment, but we never had an opportunity to speak.”
Puzzlement flavored the woman’s crisp voice. “Why—why not?”
“It distresses me to be the one to convey this news to you, Miss Falcon, but he collapsed on my doorstep. We were unable to revive him.”
Janet Falcon’s voice became shrill. “What do you mean by that? Answer me!”
“We regret to inform you that Ned Gamble perished a few hours ago. The cause of his death has yet to be determined.”
“Oh! Oh!” The woman sobbed. Her breathing over the telephone became rushed and ragged.
Doc Savage gave the stricken woman a few moments to compose herself, then stated, “We have some questions for you.”
“Questions! At a time like this? How dare you?”
With that, the distraught woman hung up the phone with stunning finality.
QUIETLY, Doc Savage replaced the telephone receiver on its cradle, and informed Ham Brooks of what had just transpired over the wire.
“Perhaps Miss Falcon will be in a better frame of mind to talk once the news sinks in,” remarked Ham.
“She appeared to be frightened,” returned Doc. “She knew that Ned Gamble was coming to see me, so whatever his business was, we can extract that from her later.”
“If I know women,” mused Ham, “even when she settles down, we are going to have a job on our hands talking to her.”
“It is conceivable that Gamble came to me at Janet Falcon’s behest. No doubt she will blame herself, and possibly me, for his unfortunate passing.”
Ham looked puzzled. “What makes you think that?”
“Something in her tone of voice suggested that Gamble was acting as her emissary.”
“You suspect that Janet Falcon was too
If Doc Savage did not recognize something, it was a fair bet that no other scientist on the planet would have.
As Monk absorbed this, his tiny eyes grew narrow and his mouth came back under his control.
“Blazes!” he squeaked unexpectedly. “You don’t suppose that this stuff is not of this earth?”
“While we can suppose nothing of the kind,” replied Doc evenly, “neither should we rule out the possibility. This matter, whatever it is, does not belong to the existing fund of modern scientific knowledge.”
That last comment almost took Monk Mayfair’s breath away; he did not know what to say for the longest time. Finally, he managed, “Maybe I had better take a look at the residue in that barrel downstairs.”
“Be very careful,” cautioned the bronze man. “We are a long way from knowing what we are dealing with.”
“I’ll tell a man!” Monk said fervently.
As the homely chemist sought the elevator, Doc Savage joined Ham Brooks in the reception room and asked, “Have you discovered anything of interest?”
Ham nodded. “The police have managed to trace the telephone call that Ned Gamble made from the Hotel Paramount upon his arrival. He called a Chicago number, and spoke with a woman named Janet Falcon.”
Interest flickered in the bronze man’s golden eyes.
“Did you get the telephone number?”
Ham tore a slip of paper off a notepad and proffered it to Doc Savage.
The bronze man took the sheet, glanced at it briefly and the number was instantly committed to his indelible memory.
Picking up a telephone, Doc Savage connected with the building switchboard operator and recited the phone number from memory.
After five rings, a nervous but professional sounding female voice asked, “Hello?”
“This is Doc Savage in New York. Am I speaking to Janet Falcon?”
“Yes, yes, you are,” the woman said eagerly. “Have you met with my fiancé?”
“What is his name?” countered Doc.
“Why, Ned Gamble. He was going to visit you.”
Doc Savage did not hesitate. “Your fiancé did arrive at my headquarters for the appointment, but we never had an opportunity to speak.”
Puzzlement flavored the woman’s crisp voice. “Why—why not?”
“It distresses me to be the one to convey this news to you, Miss Falcon, but he collapsed on my doorstep. We were unable to revive him.”
Janet Falcon’s voice became shrill. “What do you mean by that? Answer me!”
“We regret to inform you that Ned Gamble perished a few hours ago. The cause of his death has yet to be determined.”
“Oh! Oh!” The woman sobbed. Her breathing over the telephone became rushed and ragged.
Doc Savage gave the stricken woman a few moments to compose herself, then stated, “We have some questions for you.”
“Questions! At a time like this? How dare you?”
With that, the distraught woman hung up the phone with stunning finality.
QUIETLY, Doc Savage replaced the telephone receiver on its cradle, and informed Ham Brooks of what had just transpired over the wire.
“Perhaps Miss Falcon will be in a better frame of mind to talk once the news sinks in,” remarked Ham.
“She appeared to be frightened,” returned Doc. “She knew that Ned Gamble was coming to see me, so whatever his business was, we can extract that from her later.”
“If I know women,” mused Ham, “even when she settles down, we are going to have a job on our hands talking to her.”
“It is conceivable that Gamble came to me at Janet Falcon’s behest. No doubt she will blame herself, and possibly me, for his unfortunate passing.”
Ham looked puzzled. “What makes you think that?”
“Something in her tone of voice suggested that Gamble was acting as her emissary.”
“You suspect that Janet Falcon was too
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