Read Online Doc Savage: The Miracle Menace by Kenneth Robeson, Lester Dent, Will Murray - Free Book Online

hookups.
    Doc propelled the dirigible along the path for a quarter mile, just to make certain that were was no other houses in the immediate vicinity.
    It was clear that there was none. Any structure would have poked its roof up through the shivering crowns of trees. Still, to be sure, Doc made slow circles around the area.
    “Devilish deserted,” ventured Ham.
    “This is the only spot cleared of woods for miles,” Doc agreed.
    Turning the airship around, the bronze man made a beeline for the slab foundation and managed to station the dirigible over it by cutting the engines ahead of time and coasting to the spot without power.
    This enabled them to hover after a fashion over the slab, although a breeze pushed them about a bit.
    “No house at all,” said Doc.
    Frowning, Ham got on the radio.
    “We found the spot, but there’s no house there,” he declared.
    “Didn’t I already say that?” Renny returned in his bearish voice.
    “But you claimed that you saw it!” Ham demanded.
    “I saw the roof outlines. It was a Victorian. One of those rambling old monstrosities garnished with a lot of useless gingerbread and a tower like a wizard’s cap.”
    “You saw the roof, but not the house?”
    “I spotted a light in the tower,” clarified Renny. “Shape of a window pane.”
    “So what happened?” asked Monk, leaning into the mike.
    “I came up the path and saw the gabled parts of the roof,” rumbled Renny. “That was when the scalping party commenced.”
    “Who got scalped?” put in Monk, simian features puckering with interest.
    “Nobody. The redskin ran into my fist. He didn’t like it.”
    That was possibly the understatement of the century. Renny’s fists were quart-sized pails of bone and gristle. Being beaned by a brick was probably a step down in discomfort.
    “Describe your assailant,” requested Doc Savage.
    “He wasn’t very big, but he was all wire and muscles. Wore a deerskin breechcloth, and not much else. He sneaked up from behind and tried to take my hair in one hand and slice off the top of my scalp with the other. But I heard a twig snap, and turned just in time to skin my knuckles against his nose.”
    “He say anything?” asked Doc.
    “Yeah. But I couldn’t make it out. It was Indian lingo. I scouted around for a time and found that I was pretty close to the house. So I made for it. I couldn’t have taken my attention off it for more than a few seconds, while I searched for that Indian. When I laid eyes on the roofline again, it plumb wasn’t there.”
    “Any other phenomena?” asked Doc.
    “None. By the time I reached the spot, I came upon the same slab you are looking at now.”
    “A trick,” sniffed Ham. “No doubt the actual home is elsewhere and Renny witnessed some type of clever fakery.”
    “I dunno,” Monk muttered. “Renny’s got pretty good eyes and his woodcraft is top-notch. He would be hard to fool.”
    “A house cannot simply vanish,” Ham insisted.
    “So where’s the other house—the real one?” countered Monk.
    Ham Brooks had nothing to offer.
    Monk looked to his bronze chief, his homely face a wide question mark.
    Doc Savage added nothing further to the argument. Instead, he said, “Let us pick up the others.”
    ENGAGING the engines, Doc sent the dirigible over the spot where their three remaining comrades were camped.
    A blazing pencil light pierced the night. Midges could be seen swirling in its beam, and a solitary moth fluttered around its vortex curiously.
    Releasing the grappling hook from its hull receptacle, Doc snagged a sturdy oak tree and winched the craft as close to the ground as the thick trees permitted. He threw open the hatch, dropped out the heavy knotted climbing rope.
    One by one, they slipped to the ground, Monk sliding down one-handed, Habeas the pig cradled in his other arm. He made it look easy.
    Johnny Littlejohn greeted them. He was distinguished by a shaggy mop of hair and a lapel monocle which he never wore, and