Free Doc Savage: Phantom Lagoon (The Wild Adventures of Doc Savage) by Kenneth Robeson, Lester Dent, Will Murray

to me, Doc,” boasted Monk. “I’ll make her crackle like a hen.”
    “You?” sneered the blonde. “That’ll be the day! You’re just sore because I got the better of you.”
    Ham opened his lean, mobile mouth to speak, whereupon Hornetta flayed the dapper lawyer with her exquisitely sharp tongue. “As for you, fancy britches, I can see that you’re all in a lather because I wouldn’t give you a tumble.”
    Ham turned purple and was reduced to sputtering inarticulately.
    Doc Savage said steadily, “What is the point of all this stubborn silence? This is a serious matter. You are in very deep.”
    Hornetta snorted. “Deep as Davy Jones’ locker, I’ll tell a man!”
    “Then come clean, sister,” growled Monk.
    Hornetta promptly changed the subject. “Listen, I got out of that brick kiln alive because I hid in your sub. It looked mighty seaworthy. What do you say?”
    “Not without explanations,” said Doc.
    Hornetta suddenly thought of something. “Say, how did you three get away?”
    “Our plane exploded,” explained Ham.
    “Yeah,” said Monk. “But we weren’t in it. We dropped out an emergency hatch on the opposite side, where we couldn’t be seen.”
    “I heard all the little explosions before I heard the bigger one,” Hornetta stated.
    “That was our plane,” admitted Ham Brooks.
    “We just sat down on the riverbed until the coast was clear,” added Monk.
    “You and the local catfish, huh?”
    “We have our methods,” said Doc, cryptically.
    “I’ll bet you do,” Hornetta said dismissively.
    Hornetta continued her stubborn stance. She returned to the subject of her present obsession.
    “What about that deal? Your sub for a ration of truth?”
    “Only a ration?”
    “I’m rationing out my truth these days. If you want your share, all of you have to string along with me.”
    Hairy Monk looked at the bronze man. “Doc?”
    “Yes, Monk?”
    “You got any of that new truth serum on you?”
    Doc Savage made a show of going through his pockets. “I might just have some.”
    “’Cause I think that’s the only way we’re gonna get this leaky faucet to start gushing.”
    “Agreed,” said Doc, extracting a case from one pocket. Opening it revealed a thin vial of colorless liquid and a hypodermic needle nestled in a bed of maroon velvet.
    Doc directed quietly, “Monk, hold her arm.”
    “With pleasure, Doc. I always like to watch you go to work on ’em. Especially tough sisters like this one. They all think they have nerves of iron, but once that truth juice gets to work on them, they start spilling all their secrets like confession is going to come back into style.”
    Doc Savage charged the needle. He came over and took one of Hornetta’s sinewy forearms. He pressed the needle point to the raw skin.
    Hornetta’s eyes grew wide. “You—you can’t do this! It’s illegal. Isn’t it?”
    Monk grinned widely. “Doc is a surgeon. Don’t you know that? If the truth juice don’t work, he’s got a machine to X-ray your brain.”
    Hornetta’s eyes protruded from their sockets. A starkness took hold of her shapely form. “All right, all right, you—win!”
    “No tricks,” warned Doc.
    “Cross my heart and hope to strike gold,” vowed Hornetta Hale.
    Doc set the needle on a table as if to keep it handy should Hornetta reverse her decision.
    Hornetta composed herself and began speaking.
    “You remember when that German passenger dirigible went blooie a few years back?”
    “Yes, of course,” said Doc.
    “And when the Lusitania sank?”
    “Yes.”
    “And the assassin’s shot that touched off the powder keg that was the last World War?”
    “I do,” admitted Doc Savage.
    “Well, this will make all three of them look like barnyard accidents.”
    “How so?” asked Ham, eyes glowing with interest.
    “Well boys, gather around and I’ll tell you.”
    Instantly, Ham Brooks leaned in. A mistake.
    Hornetta took a swipe at his sword cane, caught it, and claimed