Free Doc Savage: Death's Dark Domain by Will Murray Lester Dent Kenneth Robeson Page A

breathed weirdly in their exertions.
    In a normal fight, Long Tom could whip a half-dozen men before breakfast. A full dozen
     after his morning eggs.
    But under these circumstances and handicapped as he was, the weird things smothered
     him into helplessness.
    “What—are—you—birds!” he jerked out.
    But the only reply was horrid, eerie music that penetrated his brain as if it, too,
     were attacking him.
    Something—it felt like a webbed hand—covered his mouth and nose, shutting off oxygen.
    Long Tom fought back, wrestled hard, but there was something in the unhuman hand.
     Something unpleasant. It filled his straining nostrils. Chloroform! He felt his last
     senses ebbing, and the darkness that surrounded him soon became absolute.…
    Weighted and pressed to the floor, Long Tom’s undersized form gave out a last spasmodic
     jerk, then relaxed.
    One by one, the leathery attackers climbed back to their feet.
    In the darkness, a steamer trunk was produced and Long Tom was thrown into it. The
     lid dropped over his slender form with the finality of a coffin closing.
    By then, the faraway uncanny music had faded into silence.

Chapter 7
Pat Guesses Wrong
    A SILVER-COLORED aircraft dropped out of the sky over the upper Hudson River. Silent
     as the wind, it skimmed over the rushing water rather low, then hiked around to drag
     the river once more.
    Finally it alighted, floats smashing water, motors reversing, and ran over to the
     concrete ramp of a vault-like warehouse built on a pier on the Hudson side of Manhattan.
    Engines revving anew, the pilot guided the craft up this ramp under power. Riverward
     doors opened and the amphibian surged up into the confines of the long brick structure.
    The door closed. On the side facing land was an old sign. It read:
    HIDALGO TRADING COMPANY
    When the amphibian came to a rest, a hatch popped and out shouldered Monk Mayfair,
     followed by Ham Brooks. They were arguing, as usual.
    Monk batted Ham’s cane out of his ribs.
    “Did I poke you?” the dapper lawyer asked innocently.
    “You sure did,” snarled Monk. “And I just want to tell you, I’ve been promising the
     Devil a man a long time, and you certainly do resemble my promise.”
    “I have always suspected you of being an overgrown imp from the lower regions,” sniffed
     Ham.
    Doc Savage emerged last.
    “Want me to refuel this ark?” asked Monk.
    The bronze man shook his head. “We will take the new transoceanic. Prepare it for
     a hop to Europe, or any other spot on a moment’s notice,” he stated.
    “Gotcha, Doc,” said Monk. He ambled off.
    It could be seen that the vault-like interior housed an amazing array of ultra-modern
     craft. There were other planes, ranging from a small racer that was all motor to a
     big twin-engine flying boat. There was also a cabin autogyro, a strange-looking submarine
     in a dry dock and, most amazing of all, a dirigible hung under the rafters. This was
     Doc Savage’s fleet of globe-girdling craft.
    Monk got to work on the big flying boat, which alone of the fleet was painted bronze.
    Ham set to refreshing the stores of ammunition and other equipment that had been expended
     during their last adventure. Boxes of supplies came out of a storage locker.
    During this activity, an electric light began flashing and a shrill whining came from
     a far corner.
    “That’s the telephone,” Ham announced.
    Doc Savage moved to the closest instrument, picked it up and said, “Hello, Pat.”
    A surprised female voice exclaimed, “Have you added psychic to your list of talents?
     How did you know it was me?”
    “A new device I am testing,” explained Doc. “It is rigged so that when a known number
     rings this line, the light flashes in a prearranged rhythm. This flashing is intermittent
     and excitable, which told me it was you.”
    “Are you implying that I am of the excitable persuasion?”
    “At this moment, your voice is,” returned Doc dryly.
    “It so happens that I have a