Read Online The Avenger 29 - The Nightwitch Devil by Kenneth Robeson - Free Book Online Page A

way toward the building which once had housed the flower shop. The heavy rain came zigzagging down through the twists of branches.
    Smitty, who was in the lead, held out his hand. “Whoa, there she is.” He stopped behind a tree trunk, nodding at the building.
    Rainwater was cascading down across the slanting tile roof, splashing into a greenish water barrel. The windows were boarded up, the rear door chained and padlocked.
    “Don’t look like they been open for business in a while,” said the giant.
    “Camouflage,” said Cole. “If you’ll cast an eye on the path leading up to the door, you’ll notice the still-visible scrape mark made when that door was recently opened. Also, look there, you’ll find mud on the bottom of the door from said scrape.”
    “Hard to be sure, with the rain slopping mud every which way.”
    “I’m sure,” said Cole. “Somebody’s using that building, and the odds are they’re in there right now.”
    “Not all of them,” said a voice behind them.
    It was Straw-hat, minus his straw hat, but carrying two automatics.
    “We’re interested in a floral piece made in the shape of a bass fiddle, to be sent to my late uncle who—”
    “Once again,” said the gunman, “I suggest you put up your hands. Then I’d like you to step into the office over there.”
    “You sure move quiet,” commented Smitty. “We never even heard you.”
    “Yeah, I’m pretty good at—”
    While Straw-hat had been turned toward Smitty to explain his stalking ability, Cole had jumped into action. He swung out, flat-handed, and dealt the gunman a chop against the side of the neck.
    Gagging, the man began to sway.
    As Straw-hat bumped into the trunk of the nearest tree, a tiny buzzing sounded in Cole’s belt radio. He ignored the signal and knocked one of the man’s guns away.
    “More coming,” warned Smitty.
    Three men, each wearing a yellow slicker and two carrying shotguns, had come running around the side of the stone building.
    Smitty bent to grab up the .45 automatic that Straw-hat had dropped.
    Unexpectedly, as Cole struggled to take the other gun away, Straw-hat kicked out with one booted foot.
    “Hey!” The toe of the heavy boot nudged hard into the side of Smitty’s head. He let go the automatic and sloshed to one knee in the muddy ground.
    “Hold it right there, big boy!” shouted the closest man with a shotgun. He was now only ten feet from them. “Stay down on your knees, or you’ll get your noggin blowed clean off.”
    Cole succeeded in wresting the second automatic from Straw-hat. He waited an instant, then gave the man a tremendous shove in the direction of the aproaching trio.
    Straw-hat went dancing across the mud, flapping his arms to keep his balance, his booted feet kicking up slushy mud.
    Cole grabbed Smitty’s arm. “Come on, let’s make a hasty departure.”
    The big man put his hand to his head. “I can’t seem to . . .” All expression left his face. He dropped forward.
    Cole left him and ran. Stopping with a tree trunk at his back, he tugged out his belt-buckle radio. “Bald Hill Floral Shoppe,” he said into the receiver. “Bald Hill Floral Shoppe. We got trouble.”
    Then they were on him.

CHAPTER XVI

The Avenger Takes A Hand
    Late in the afternoon the rain slackened. The sky lightened slightly, turning from a chalky gray to a muddy brown. The old panel truck came bouncing along the road, only one windshield wiper working. Lettered on its side was Crittenden Bros. Wholesale Flowers. With a rattle and a cough of smoke, the venerable vehicle turned off the road and came to a stop near the front door of the defunct Bald Hill Floral Shoppe.
    A medium-sized young man bounded out of the driver’s seat and began pounding with his fist on the boarded-over glass door. After doing that for nearly a full minute, he let off. Scratching his head through his checkered cap, he looked anxiously around. Then he tried pounding on the door again.
    “Hey, this stuff is