Part 4 (1/2)
”Yes, Monk?” Doc's voice answered almost at once.
Monk advised the whereabouts of the spot to which they had trailed the girl.
”Look, Doc,” the homely chemist added, ”what's this all about?”
”There is no way of telling, just yet,” the bronze man explained.
Monk was not entirely satisfied. He rubbed his jaw, scratched his nubbin of a head, and smoothed the bristling hair down on his nape.
”What do you want us to do?” he asked.
”Keep an eye on the girl,” Doc Savage said. ”And eavesdrop.”
”Eavesdrop?””Try to find out why the fact that she found a wrist watch made her take flight,” Doc explained. ”In case you can't learn anything by eavesdropping, you might grab the girl.”
Monk grinned.
”Grabbin' that girl would be a pleasure!” he chuckled. ”She's a looker, what I mean!”
That ended the radio conference.
Chapter V. THE JAMEROO.
MONK closed the car doors, locked them, and went back to the dock where the schooner was tied up.
He walked out on the wharf confidently, came to a patch of gloom behind a piling, about where he had left Ham, and stopped.
”Ham,” he said, ”Doc says-”
The bunch of shadow that the chemist had thought was Ham straightened. Monk suddenly found a gun jammed into his middle. A gun snout that made a rasping noise as it hit his belt buckle.
”Pipe down!” said a strange voice.
Monk peered, trying to make out the features of the speaker. He got a slap in the face for his pains.
”Where's Ham?” Monk gulped.
Considering that during the last hour he had stated at least a dozen times that he intended to tear Ham limb from limb, Monk's anxiety was inconsistent.
”Shut up!” said the man with the gun.
Men appeared on the schooner. They had been hiding behind the deckhouse and dinghy. The men climbed onto the dock.
”Search this clunk!” ordered Monk's captor.
”Sure, Batavia,” one man said.
Monk swelled indignantly as he was searched, but there seemed to be nothing he could do about it.
”Now,” Batavia told Monk, ”you get on the boat.”
Monk climbed down on the boat and entered the cabin.
”Ham!” the homely chemist yelled.
Ham was lying on a bunk, motionless. Monk leaped to him, clutched the dapper lawyer's wrist, and was relieved to discover pulse. Ham was alive! More than that, he was in the act of regaining consciousness, it appeared, for he squirmed, blinked open his eyes and focused them on Monk. As soon as he had organized himself, Ham began to scowl.
”What's the idea,” he snarled, ”sneaking up behind and banging me on the head?”
”Listen, Blackstone,” Monk said, ”I didn't bang you-”Batavia came over, gouged Monk with the gun muzzle and said, ”Sit down and shut up!”
Monk sat down on the transom seat near the girl.
Miami Davis was tied hand and foot. She was trembling, but she made no sound because of the adhesive tape which crisscrossed her lips.
Batavia moved toward the companionway, his slicker rustling.
”I'll see if I can get hold of the chief,” he said to his men. ”Gotta find out what to do with these three.”
Batavia climbed the companionway and went out.
Monk said, ”What I want to know is about them ghosts-”
A man came over and showed Monk another gun. ”Listen, you gimlet-eyed baboon, you're on the spot!
Keep that ugly trap shut!”
Monk subsided.
Rain washed the cabin roof, sluiced along the decks, and the wind slapped the halliards against the mast.
Little waves gurgled like running water along the hull.
BATAVIA came back a little while later. He was scowling.
”We croak 'em later,” he said. ”I couldn't get hold of the chief.”
Monk frowned at the girl, Miami Davis.
”When you talked to Doc,” he accused, ”you left out some stuff.”
The young woman nodded. Her mouth seemed to be too tight with strain to let words come out.