Read Online Doc Savage: The Secret of Satan's Spine (The Wild Adventures of Doc Savage Book 15) by Kenneth Robeson, Lester Dent, Will Murray - Free Book Online Page A
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that, Doc Savage came to his feet, charged around the back of the dwelling, found the hatch that opened into the basement, flung it up. Diving in, he landed on a set of cobwebbed timber steps, and pulled the hatch shut behind him.
This was done with such speed and stealth that no one witnessed it, nor could anyone have imagined it could be accomplished so quickly.
Moving through the gloomy basement, Doc Savage went directly to the stairs that he previously mounted in order to surprise Diamond and his gang, having earlier secreted himself in the dank basement.
The bronze giant took the unpainted steps with great caution, in case anyone was stationed at the head of the staircase.
He drew from his clothing a slim black tube, which he extended telescope fashion, then manipulated in another way, fashioning a periscope of sorts.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Doc hung back, and extended the tubular periscope, peering outward to ascertain the lay of the land. The first thing he saw was Monk Mayfair lying sprawled on the floor. A reddish patch at the back of his head looked nasty.
Men were charging about, and guns were going off. The sound was of a general bedlam.
No one seemed to be concerned with Monk, so Doc took a chance, flashed out, grabbed the hairy chemist by the shoulders and pulled him down onto the basement steps.
That accomplished, Doc surreptitiously closed the door at the top, and drifted back to the basement hatch, moving quietly but with grim efficiency.
The bronze man’s intention was to rescue Ham Brooks next, but the minute his head poked out of the hatchway door, lead started snapping at him, and he was forced to withdraw.
The caterwauling of a police siren could be heard, something that might have been predicted given the general conditions of combat. Quite a commotion had been produced.
This caused Diamond to execute a change in plans.
“Pile into the cars!” he ordered. “Get the hell out of here. Rendezvous at the second departure area.”
There was a concerted slamming of feet down rattling porch steps, through hedges and onto the heat-cracked pavement.
Various vehicles had been parked on either side of the residential street, and evidently they all belonged to Diamond and his gang.
Listening, Doc heard a flurry of slamming car doors, and the grinding and choking of automobile engines.
Quite a number of cars roared off as the sirens grew near. Doc reemerged, swept around to the front of the Old Sailors Home, and mounted the porch steps, discovering Ham Brooks, who was not very much worse for wear.
In the mad stampede to escape, men had trampled him rather roughly, his immaculate clothing thus picked up a number of dusty footprints, but Ham was otherwise unharmed.
As Doc Savage lifted Ham into a seated position, the elegant attorney began coughing, then complaining, for his sword cane lay in pieces, the elegant wood barrel broken, but the blade largely intact.
Ham snapped open his hands, and shook off the splintery remnants of the barrel, then climbed to his feet unsteadily.
Examining the state of his attire, he discovered a parade of footprints upon the fine fabric of his coat and trousers. His chiseled profile collapsed in horror.
“This is the worst day of my life!” he moaned.
SEEING that Ham was otherwise sound, Doc ducked into the house, opened the door leading down to the basement and pulled Monk Mayfair into the carpeted hallway, then knelt to examine his head injuries.The homely chemist had been blessed by nature with a hard skull. Possibly a sledgehammer might have dented it, but the blackjack had done nothing more than scrape off a patch of skin and smack him senseless. Doc realized with relief that he would be coming around shortly.
Doc walked out to the porch in time for two green police patrol cars with bone-white roofs to show up, sirens keening.
“Monk will be fine,” he told Ham. Then he went to greet the officers.
The bronze man was known to the police, having
This was done with such speed and stealth that no one witnessed it, nor could anyone have imagined it could be accomplished so quickly.
Moving through the gloomy basement, Doc Savage went directly to the stairs that he previously mounted in order to surprise Diamond and his gang, having earlier secreted himself in the dank basement.
The bronze giant took the unpainted steps with great caution, in case anyone was stationed at the head of the staircase.
He drew from his clothing a slim black tube, which he extended telescope fashion, then manipulated in another way, fashioning a periscope of sorts.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Doc hung back, and extended the tubular periscope, peering outward to ascertain the lay of the land. The first thing he saw was Monk Mayfair lying sprawled on the floor. A reddish patch at the back of his head looked nasty.
Men were charging about, and guns were going off. The sound was of a general bedlam.
No one seemed to be concerned with Monk, so Doc took a chance, flashed out, grabbed the hairy chemist by the shoulders and pulled him down onto the basement steps.
That accomplished, Doc surreptitiously closed the door at the top, and drifted back to the basement hatch, moving quietly but with grim efficiency.
The bronze man’s intention was to rescue Ham Brooks next, but the minute his head poked out of the hatchway door, lead started snapping at him, and he was forced to withdraw.
The caterwauling of a police siren could be heard, something that might have been predicted given the general conditions of combat. Quite a commotion had been produced.
This caused Diamond to execute a change in plans.
“Pile into the cars!” he ordered. “Get the hell out of here. Rendezvous at the second departure area.”
There was a concerted slamming of feet down rattling porch steps, through hedges and onto the heat-cracked pavement.
Various vehicles had been parked on either side of the residential street, and evidently they all belonged to Diamond and his gang.
Listening, Doc heard a flurry of slamming car doors, and the grinding and choking of automobile engines.
Quite a number of cars roared off as the sirens grew near. Doc reemerged, swept around to the front of the Old Sailors Home, and mounted the porch steps, discovering Ham Brooks, who was not very much worse for wear.
In the mad stampede to escape, men had trampled him rather roughly, his immaculate clothing thus picked up a number of dusty footprints, but Ham was otherwise unharmed.
As Doc Savage lifted Ham into a seated position, the elegant attorney began coughing, then complaining, for his sword cane lay in pieces, the elegant wood barrel broken, but the blade largely intact.
Ham snapped open his hands, and shook off the splintery remnants of the barrel, then climbed to his feet unsteadily.
Examining the state of his attire, he discovered a parade of footprints upon the fine fabric of his coat and trousers. His chiseled profile collapsed in horror.
“This is the worst day of my life!” he moaned.
SEEING that Ham was otherwise sound, Doc ducked into the house, opened the door leading down to the basement and pulled Monk Mayfair into the carpeted hallway, then knelt to examine his head injuries.The homely chemist had been blessed by nature with a hard skull. Possibly a sledgehammer might have dented it, but the blackjack had done nothing more than scrape off a patch of skin and smack him senseless. Doc realized with relief that he would be coming around shortly.
Doc walked out to the porch in time for two green police patrol cars with bone-white roofs to show up, sirens keening.
“Monk will be fine,” he told Ham. Then he went to greet the officers.
The bronze man was known to the police, having
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