Part 13 (1/2)
”'Sides you two,” he declared, ”only one stranger has been in this here building today.” ”What did that one look like?” Doc asked.
”He was kinda tall, middlin' thin, and had one of them there movie mustaches. Just looking at it made me kinda want to reach out and jerk it off.”
”Did the fellow have freckles?”
”Yes siree. Come to think of it, he did.”
”Caldwell,” said Doc.
”It's his description,” Griswold Rock agreed. ”Pere Teston is a wizened fellow, and no one would ever forget his weird, dead-looking face. So it wasn't Pere Teston.”
Doc made no comment on this. ”They were afraid the telegram would be evidence against them,”
Griswold Rock continued after a brief interval. ”Caldwell came and got it. I tell you I'm worried! They're after me and they're clever.”
”Caldwell will not bother you,” Doc advised. Griswold Rock looked surprised; ”But he is one of the gang.”
”He is also dead.” With a few terse words, Doc described the demise of Caldwell.
”Caldwell was stuck with a thrown knife as he reached the log,” Doc finished. ”He toppled to the quicksand. The murderer escaped. There was no clew to his ident.i.ty.”
”What about the killer's tracks?”
”They were made by extremely large pacs. The size indicated the killer was wearing them over his shoes.”
”That sounds like Pere Teston!” Griswold Rock e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. He shuddered. ”That shriveled fiend has small feet.”
Doc's four men arrived at the hotel. It was decided to make the hostelry their Trapper Lake headquarters.
Doc Savage inquired for a long distance telephone connection with New York City, and learned there were no phone wires out of town.
Doc set up his radio apparatus. Working through a station on Long Island, which transposed his words from the ether to land-line, he got in contact with Renny.
”How's the excavating going forward?” he asked. ”Better than expected,” Renny reported. ”Doubled the working crew this morning. I located a hydraulicking outfit such as they use for gold mining in the west, and we're using powerful streams of water to wash the hill away.”
”Did you check up on the finger prints found on the gate of Griswold Rock's estate?”
MONK AND Ham exchanged glances which, for once, were surprised instead of mutually insulting looks. Here was an angle upon which they had not known Doc was working.
”I checked the prints,” Renny reported. ”The cla.s.sifications were broadcast to leading police departments.” Renny paused at the other end to give an order to some one, probably an a.s.sociate in the excavating work.
”Here's a strange thing about the finger prints, Doc,” he continued. ”They were all of men who have escaped from prisons within the last few months.”
”All from one particular prison?” Doc asked.
”No. Several different States. One bunch got out of the Jefferson City pen, in Missouri. Another broke out of the Oklahoma hoosegow at McAlester. All got outside aid in escaping.”
”This may be significant,” Doc remarked.
”Here's something else that may be, too,” Renny reported. ”The police have a record on Caldwell. His picture is in the rogue's gallery. He has served two prison terms.”
”For what crimes?”
”He's a crook who makes a specialty of getting other criminals out of jail. He was caught doing this a couple of times. That's how he happened to go to the hoosegow.”
”Anything else?” Doc asked.
”Nope.”
The radio and land-line consultation ended with that Doc Savage turned to his friends. They eyed him expectantly. It was Doc's custom to a.s.sign his a.s.sociates work which fell in their respective lines.
”Monk,” Doc said, ”you'll fix up chemical bombs. Make them strong enough to knock out an elephant Use a gas which produces unconsciousness, rather than fatality.”
Monk nodded. The job was up his alley.
Doc a.s.signed work to Ham -- the lawyer was to delve further into the records of the Timberland Line railroad, m an effort to see what he could find.
”If you wish, you can a.s.sist Ham in this matter,” Doc told Griswold Rock.
The plump man trembled violently, but nodded.
”Very well,” he groaned. ”It seems I had best help you fellows, greatly as I am frightened. I will never feel at ease until this devil, Pere Teston, is brought to justice.”
Johnny, the bony geologist, whose learning naturally included an understanding of earthquakes and the seismographic method used to study them, was to plant sensitive listening devices in the earth. Long Tom, the electrical wizard, was to a.s.sist in this.
”The idea is to trace the direction which the footsteps of these prowling monsters take,” Doc explained.
The remainder of the afternoon was spent in following Doc Savage's suggestions.
The homely Monk possessed a remarkably compact portable chemical laboratory which he always took upon expeditions of this sort. Long Tom, the electrical wizard, likewise carried an a.s.sortment of devices.
The two experts utilized their equipment to carry out Doc's suggestions. Doc Savage spent some time working with devices which he himself had brought. During this interval, he secluded himself in a room of the Guide's Hotel.
When the bronze man appeared, some time later, he was placing in a pocket objects which resembled ordinary .410 gauge shotgun sh.e.l.ls.
Ham and Griswold Rock returned to the hotel near nightfall.
”I talked to conductors on some of the Timberland Line pa.s.senger trains,” Ham reported. ”They gave me some interesting dope. It seems that they have noted some very tough-looking pa.s.sengers on their trains during recent months. These fellows are obviously criminals. All of them got off at Trapper Lake.”
Ham paused; he could not resist an urge for dramatics. ”These tough-looking fellows were always in the company of a certain man!”
”Don't beat around the bus.h.!.+” growled Monk, who was listening. ”Who was the guy?”
”Caldwell!”
Griswold Rock wrung his fat hands in fright. ”I cannot understand this. Caldwell has been extricating criminals from prisons and bringing them to this vicinity. Why?”