Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 061 - Devil on the Moon

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DEVIL ON THE MOON
A Doc Savage Adventure By Kenneth Robeson
This page copyright © 2001 Blackmask Online.
http://www.blackmask.com
? Chapter I. MAN IN THE METEOR
? Chapter II. STRANGE MEN AND STRANGE QUESTIONS
? Chapter III. BLUE GLASS ROD
? Chapter IV. BEHEMOTH, QUEER MAN
? Chapter V. THE IDEA MAN
? Chapter VI. THE FOX
? Chapter VII. THE UNDECEIVED
? Chapter VIII. FANTASTIC IS TO-MORROW
? Chapter IX. THE NORFOLK TRAIL
? Chapter X. THE FISH STEALERS
? Chapter XI. THE MERCHANT OF DEATH
? Chapter XII. BACK OF THE EIGHT BALL
? Chapter XIII. THE BACKFIRE
? Chapter XIV. THE STOWAWAY
? Chapter XV. MOON-BOUND
? Chapter XVI. MOON PIT
? Chapter XVII. AIMLESS?
Scanned and Proofed
by Tom Tom Stephens
Chapter I. MAN IN THE METEOR
A ROARING sound was probably the first evidence of what was to come to be known as the
mystery of the Devil on the Moon. A sick red light accompanied the roaring. It lighted up the
surroundings, and struck the earth near the Spanish Plantation.
The Spanish Plantation was situated in Virginia, near Washington, and its old Colonial
architecture was pleasantly distinguished. There was a colored orchestra and a sign which
advertised chicken dinners. It was a nice place.
Lin Pretti was one among a number who heard the roar. She happened to be standing in a
secluded spot on the Spanish Plantation lawn.
Lin Pretti had become something of a sensation around the Spanish Plantation. She was
not an exquisitely beautiful girl, but her manners were perfect and her conversation excitingly
clever. She grew on people, men especially. Lin Pretti was somewhat mysterious; no one
really knew much about her.
Lin Pretti stared at the night sky.
The red, roaring thing came all the way down and dropped out of sight behind a nearby hill.
There was a distinct report and an earth jar. Then came silence and darkness.
The falling object that came arching down out of the heavens might have been a meteor,
except that meteors or shooting stars usually fade out after a shower of bright, dazzling
sparks. They are burned away by friction with the earth’s atmosphere.
Lin Pretti reacted strangely. Her hands covered her eyes. A terrified sound escaped her. It
was as though she knew the real nature of what had happened.
Bob Thomas found Lin Pretti with her hands over her eyes.
"Bo-o-o!" Bob Thomas exclaimed playfully.
Bob Thomas, tall, blond, and rather good-looking, was a young Washington insurance
salesman. He admitted being in love with Lin Pretti.
The girl did not seem to hear the "Bo-o-o!"
"Is something wrong?" Bob Thomas asked anxiously.
Lin Pretti suddenly jerked her hands from her face and seized Bob’s arm. Her fingers
seemed to bite him. The girl swallowed twice before she managed to say, "Nothing." She
seemed frantic to get Bob Thomas talking about something besides the way she looked.
"Bob," she said quickly, "what—what did you learn of the man I asked you to look up
information about?"
"You mean Doc Savage?"
"Yes."
Bob Thomas was impatient. "This Doc Savage is a man who devotes his life to going about
the world righting wrongs and punishing evildoers. It sounded kind of queer to me." The
young insurance man took both the girl’s hands in his. "Lin! What is wrong with you?"
"Bob," she exclaimed wildly, "will you help me?"
"Help you do what?"
"Get a flashlight, and be prepared for something so horrible and incredible that you’ll have
trouble believing it."
BRUSH grew on the hill behind the Spanish Plantation. Bob Thomas waved the beam of the
flashlight he had taken out of his car, picking out the best route. When they topped the hill,
Bob Thomas gave a surprised start.
A few hundred yards ahead was water. It was an arm of Chesapeake Bay. Thomas hadn’t
known the bay was that close.
Lin Pretti raced forward.
"Quick!" the girl gasped.
Bob Thomas followed her until they neared the lake. Then the girl stopped abruptly. She
faced Bob Thomas.
"Will you promise me something?" she demanded.
Bob Thomas did not hesitate. "I promise!" he said.
"Don’t ever tell anyone what happens to-night!" the girl requested earnestly.
"I promise," Bob Thomas said. He was astounded.
Lin Pretti stared about in the darkness. "It must have struck around here!" she said tensely.
This puzzled Bob Thomas; he’d been inside the Spanish Plantation, had not seen the
strange, roaring red thing come out of the night sky. The girl reached for the flashlight. He let
her have it. She ran forward, searching.
"Look here!" Bob said. "If there is anything dangerous around, it’s no place for a girl. Maybe
I’d better take you back!"
The girl just shuddered.
Bob Thomas obeyed a natural masculine impulse and put his arm around the young woman.
Lin Pretti looked up at him. "Bob—you love me, don’t you?" she said.
"By George, if I don’t, I’ll do until the next guy comes along!" he said heartily.
"Don’t, please," the girl said strangely, "because you’re too nice a young man to die."
THEY found the green man lying behind a bush.
He was alive. He had a lot of bony framework; once he must have been a giant. But now
there was only hide and gristle on his bones.
The man was not really green. His garment was a cloth like silk, a green hue a little darker
than grass. It resembled a suit of tights.
Circling the green man’s midriff was a shiny metal belt. Around his neck was a bright metal
collar equipped with wing nuts, as if a helmet fitted there.
The green man had been burned badly, and one arm was broken. Probably he had other
injuries. He looked at Lin Pretti. Scarlet crept from the corners of his mouth. Suddenly he
recognized the girl.
"It has been a long time!" he gasped in accented English.
"Tony Vesterate!"
the girl cried.
"Yes." The green man’s voice was weak.
"You disappeared two years ago!" The girl bit her lips. "But you look so—so much older."
Agony made the green man’s lips peel. "I am thirty-one."
Bob Thomas realized the man looked fifty at least. The fellow seemed to be getting worse.
"I have been on the moon!" he screamed suddenly.
BOB THOMAS sniffed skeptically. Then he turned to the girl. But Lin Pretti was stark rigidity
from head to foot.
The green man stirred weakly, moaned.
"Have you got a knife?" he croaked.
"Knife?" Lin Pretti looked puzzled. "No."
The green man’s hollow eyes sought Bob Thomas. "Have you?"
"Er—not much of a one," Bob Thomas said, showing his knife, a tiny thing on the end of his
watch chain.
"Give it to me!" the green man ordered.
Curious to see what the fellow wanted with the knife, Bob Thomas unhooked the tiny blade.
He opened it for the man.
The green man twisted, got at his left leg, inserted the blade, and opened the green cloth.
The ridge of a healed wound was revealed.
"If you’re squeamish, you had better turn around," he said to the girl.
Lin Pretti quickly faced the other way.
The green man had courage. A moment later his shaking fingers were wiping the object he
had excavated.
The object was a dark-blue, glasslike cylinder less than half an inch in diameter and no more
than two inches long. The glasslike substance was too blue to reveal what was inside.
"Here is what—we were after," the green man said. Lin Pretti took the cylinder.
"I understand," she said queerly.
The green man pointed toward the inlet. "Go down there and look," he ordered. "It will be
interesting."
"We’d better do it, Bob," Lin Pretti said quietly.
Bob Thomas reached reluctantly for the flashlight, and they ran toward the inlet. Bob kept
roving the flashlight beam. The bushes were small and thick. When they finally stood on the
shore of the inlet, its glassy surface seemed to mock them. Reflection of clouds and stars
created an eerie mural on the surface of the water.
There was nothing to be found. They did a good job of searching.
"Queer he’d ask us to come down here," Bob Thomas muttered.
When they went back to where they had left the green man, he was gone.
Chapter II. STRANGE MEN AND STRANGE QUESTIONS
UNEXPECTED absence of the green man was such a shock that Bob Thomas
extinguished his flashlight. He could not have explained just why, unless it was a feeling of
some terror lurking. Now and then a disturbed bird made a fluttering noise in the brush.
Cloud images on the bay resembled monsters and seemed to crawl over the tiny light points
of the stars.
"He tricked us!" Bob Thomas muttered.
The girl said nothing.
Bob Thomas pointed his flashlight beam at the ground. Faint bloodstains could be
distinguished where the green man had lain. "He was hurt too bad to have gone far. We’ll
hunt him."
"No!" the girl gasped. She took hold of the young man’s arm. "Please, Bob—we’ve got to
leave here," she said wildly.
And because he was in love with her, he followed her. They reached the top of the hill and
started down toward the Spanish Plantation before he spoke.
"Lin," he said sharply, "what is this all about?"
The girl walked faster. "Please, Bob! You mustn’t ask questions!"
Bob Thomas turned the flashlight on Lin Pretti’s face. He saw so much fear that it shocked
him. He had thought the girl sounded scared; he had not expected such utter terror. Bob
Thomas’s skin began to feel as if it wanted to crawl. He suddenly knew there was some
incredible terror here, something hidden, something he did not see.
"That stuff about the moon—" Bob Thomas demanded suddenly. "What did the fellow
mean?"
The girl shook her head slowly. "You would not understand, Bob."
"You’re in trouble!" Bob Thomas grumbled. "I should have known that much when you asked
me to investigate Doc Savage."
The girl stopped.
"Oh, that!" She shook her head. "That had nothing to do with this. I was just—just curious."
"Do you have to lie to me?"
The young woman threw up her chin and seemed about to fling something biting. Instead,
she whirled and ran toward the Spanish Plantation. She flounced inside and slammed the
door behind her.
Bob Thomas, his expression more puzzled than hurt, started to open the door. Then he
reconsidered. His car, a small coupé, was parked in the nearby lot. He got behind the
wheel, tore the top off a package of cigarettes and sat and smoked thoughtfully. After about
ten minutes, an idea occurred to him, and he seized his flashlight and got out of the car.
He was going to hunt the green man.
Topping the ridge, he was surprised to see a light moving down near the bay, where he had
last seen the green man. When he saw who was using the light, Thomas stopped very still.
Lin Pretti! The girl was removing the bloodstains where the green man had been!
Watching her, Bob Thomas was again impressed by her terror. In fact it was catching. Bob
Thomas put a finger inside his collar as if it was tight and was choking his Adam’s apple,
then rubbed his forehead in puzzlement. His brain would not accept such insanities as the
dying man in green had revealed to him and Lin Pretti. And as for being on the moon, that
too was ridiculous!
Bob Thomas knew Lin Pretti well enough to believe that she did not scare easily. And yet
she was utterly frightened. He wondered what he should do. If he accosted her now, she
would be angry. And he doubted if she would answer any questions.
Thinking about the girl, Bob Thomas caught himself wondering just exactly who she was.
After all, no one seemed to know where she came from. She didn’t have a job evidently. As
a matter of fact there was a good deal of mystery connected with her. Bob Thomas didn’t
like it one bit. It smacked too much of trouble. And Bob Thomas was the type of fellow who
didn’t go hunting for it.
Of course, if Lin Pretti really needed help badly, he’d be only too glad to help. But something
told him Lin Pretti wanted anything but that right now. What she wanted most was to be
alone. Bob Thomas gritted his teeth and swore.
While Bob Thomas watched, Lin Pretti moved toward the bay with an armload of
bloodstained weeds, which she apparently was going to throw into the water.
She had been gone only a moment when hands unexpectedly took hold of Bob Thomas.
THERE were several pairs of hands. When Thomas fought them, some of the hands
became fists and struck back. He went down with men in a fighting pile.
"Blast him!" a voice grated. "He’s not as weak as he looked!"
This was the first time Bob Thomas had ever heard himself called weak-looking. He was six
feet two, and he had made a football name in college. He kicked, and heard a victim reel
away moaning. Bob got an arm loose, struck. Someone fell heavily.
Clouds passing overhead made it dark. Bob Thomas began to feel confident that he was
going to escape—or perhaps he might even whip them all!
"Behemoth!" someone screeched.
The tone which answered this call was one Bob Thomas never forgot. It was a great, gusty
whisper. An incredibly cavernous whisper.
"Gimme room to take ‘im!" said the whisper.
The men released Bob Thomas, and he stumbled to his feet, but not quickly enough to
evade a charge. A great body hit him. Thomas struck back with his fist, hit something that
felt more like iron than flesh. Then great arms squeezed him.
He was suddenly and completely helpless.
"I got ‘im!" said the huge whisper.
A flashlight blazed. Bob Thomas twisted to see what nature of monster held him.
Behemoth was a giant with hair on the back of his hands—bright-red hair—and no hair on
his head. His face had freckles, his nose flared, and the bulge of his teeth gave his lower
face a squarish effect. His shirt gaped at the neck to show red fur. His shirt had two pockets;
both were full of cigars, and he was smoking one.
"Hey!" someone exploded. "This ain’t Vesterate!"
It was plain they had thought they were seizing the green man.
The captors scowled at Bob Thomas in disgust.
"Here comes Lurgent!" a man said.
Lurgent came up. He was a tall hawk in a brown suit.
"Hi-ya, boss!" said the giant Behemoth.
Lurgent looked at Bob Thomas. "Who’s this?"
"That’s what we’re wonderin’," Behemoth said.
Lurgent came over and poked Bob Thomas with a finger. "What are you doing here?" he
demanded. "Who are you?"
Bob Thomas, baffled, did what he thought wise. He avoided the truth.
"I was dancing at that roadhouse over the hill yonder. I had a spat with my girl and took a
walk to cool off. What’s the idea of your men grabbing me?"
He thought that was a rather good story. It seemed to deceive the men, too.
"I’m sorry," Lurgent told Bob Thomas politely. "You see, we are guards from a nearby insane
asylum, and one of the patients has escaped. We’re hunting him. My men mistook you for
the—ah—nut." Lurgent glared at Behemoth. "What the hell are you holding him for? Turn him
loose!"
Bob Thomas was released. He got to his feet. He killed time straightening his clothes.
Bob Thomas thought over what he had just been told, and the strange things that had
happened.
He suddenly recalled that Lin Pretti had never told him why she was in this district. Perhaps
she had wished to be close to a relative who was confined in an institution! Suppose the
relative had escaped? Naturally, the girl would be concerned, and she might try to cover the
truth. She might deny, for instance, that the green man was a demented relative. Most
people are sensitive about having insanity in the family.
"How was your escaped maniac dressed?" Bob Thomas asked.
Lurgent grinned. "He’s a bad case, and we humor him. Let him wear silly-looking green
tights. He once saw a motion picture of a man who went to the moon, and now he imagines
he’s the man on the moon."
"That explains what he said about being on the moon."
"You saw him?"
Lurgent yelled.
"Yes," Bob admitted sheepishly.
"But you said you hadn’t!"
"I know. I said that because I didn’t trust you gentlemen."
"We’re sorry, buddy."
"Will you gentlemen tell me something?" Bob asked.
Lurgent granted. "Anything we can."
"Is Lin Pretti a relative of this insane man?"
Lurgent nodded. "His sister."
"Thank you," Bob said. "She was with me when we found the nut—the green man."
"I see." Lurgent seemed quite friendly. "What happened then?"
Bob Thomas launched into a description of what had taken place.
"Who has the blue glass cylinder?" questioned Lurgent, after Bob Thomas had finished.
"Lin has it."
"Where does she stay?"
"At a new brick tourist hotel on the road north of here," Bob said.
"It seems," Lurgent said, "that we are going to have to kill you."
Behemoth whispered, "Murder ain’t nothin’ to go rushin’ into!"
Lurgent scowled and addressed his men: "Tie this Thomas fellow."
Bob fought them. But he had waited too long. They got him down—with Behemoth’s
aid—and contributed belts to fasten his ankles, and handkerchiefs to put in his mouth.
"I guess we won’t kill him!" Lurgent growled at Behemoth. "I’m sending you after the girl."
"You want that glass cylinder, too?" Behemoth asked.
"Of course, you fool!"
Behemoth did not seem insulted. He asked in a mild whisper, "What is that capsule,
anyhow?"
"That," Lurgent said, "is none of your business."
The giant shrugged. "What about the bird in the green suit—that Vesterate?"
"He’ll be with the girl, of course," Lurgent said. He made a meaningful gesture at his throat.
"But you don’t need to bring back the fellow in green, providing you leave him dead enough."
Bob Thomas knew they were wrong about Vesterate. They didn’t know how badly Vesterate
had been hurt. Far from being with Lin Pretti, the poor fellow had dragged himself away and
was dying somewhere near.
"You heard Thomas say where the girl stays," Lurgent growled at Behemoth. "Get her and
bring her here."
Behemoth nodded, then walked away.
Suddenly Bob Thomas’ face blanched. For Lurgent had drawn a pistol, a single-shot gun
with a long barrel and silencer. Lurgent deliberately aimed this weapon at Bob Thomas’
head.
"Wait!" Bob Thomas exploded frantically. "Maybe you’d like to know about the Man on the
Moon!"
Lurgent started violently. Seizing a flashlight, he blazed it into Bob Thomas’ features. "What
did you say?"
Lurgent waved at his men to withdraw. They did so, leaving Lurgent and Bob Thomas
behind. They were not away for long. There was a single shot.
"Come on back!" Lurgent called.
Bob Thomas was sprawled on the ground, head turned to one side. There was a smear of
red on his forehead. Lurgent reloaded his single-shot pistol. He said, "Keep your eyes open
while I get rid of the body."
He shouldered the body of Bob Thomas and strode toward the water.
Chapter III. BLUE GLASS ROD
THE neon sign said:
DIXIE INN
The inn building was new, large, built of brick; a substantial structure, and as homey-looking
as an English farmhouse.
Lin Pretti was staying at the Dixie Inn.
Behemoth, when he reached the hotel, proceeded to talk with the doorman. Eventually a
five-dollar bill changed hands, as well as a story about Lin Pretti being a married woman
whose husband had hired a detective to trail her.
Behemoth’s story flow had a second installment. In this second part, Behemoth was an
honest detective. Lin Pretti had dropped a ten-dollar bill. Behemoth had found it, and he
wanted to return it without revealing his identity. Would the doorman take the bill up to the
girl? The doorman would.
Behemoth walked to the rear of the hotel and proceeded to accomplish a remarkable feat.
The bricks in the wall were of a coarse type, with deep grooves between them. Using an
incredible strength in his fingertips, and employing his bare feet—he first removed shoes
and socks—Behemoth climbed the wall.
Soon he was clinging outside Lin Pretti’s window.
The girl had two suitcases on the bed, was stuffing them with clothing.
Outside the window, Behemoth clung with the apparent ease of a grotesque bat.
When there was a knock on her door, the girl started violently. Then she whipped to the
writing desk. An inkwell stood there. She drew something from a pocket of her frock and
dropped it into the inkwell.
Lin Pretti then went to the door, opened it, and was handed the ten-dollar bill by the
doorman.
Behemoth got the window up silently while she was standing half outside in the hall, talking
with the doorman in an effort to learn who had given him the bill.
Lin Pretti backed into the room, closed the door and locked it. Then she stood, looking
puzzled, and was that way when Behemoth seized her.
THE struggle was short, and Behemoth’s furry hand over the girl’s mouth kept it silent.
Convinced finally of the hopelessness of struggling, the young woman quieted. Behemoth
removed his hand carefully from her mouth.
"Where’s that blue glass jigger?" Behemoth demanded.
"You—you—" Nervousness almost strangled Lin Pretti. "I can’t imagine what you are talking
about!"
Behemoth shrugged, used a sheet from the hotel bed to bind and gag the young woman.
There were two blankets on the bed and he knotted these together, then made one end of
the improvised rope fast under the girl’s arms.
Leaving her, Behemoth went to the inkwell. He extracted the blue glass cylinder with a pen,
then dried it on the blotter, being careful not to stain his fingers.
He spent some moments examining it curiously, then went into the bathroom, searched and
found a roll of ordinary adhesive tape, tore off a strip and proceeded to fasten the blue
capsule to his body, just below the armpit, a spot where it was not likely to be damaged.
After buttoning his shirt, he lowered the girl from the window and followed her.
Behemoth carried the girl over his shoulder, her weight seeming to mean little to him, and
trotted into the night. The distance to the Spanish Plantation was not great. Behemoth
traversed the entire stretch at an easy run but avoided the roadhouse and crossed over the
hill to the lake. There was a quality almost ghostly about the silence with which he skirted the
shore of the lake until he encountered Lurgent and the others.
Behemoth looked around. "Where’s that young fellow—Bob Thomas?"
Lurgent shrugged; his words demonstrated that he was an excellent liar. "Couple of the boys
took him away," he said. "They’ll keep him in a safe place and turn him loose after this all
blows over."
Behemoth was silent for so long that Lurgent’s hand drifted nervously toward his gun pocket.
But Behemoth only grunted and lowered the girl.
Lurgent growled, "Did you get the blue thing?"
"She must have hidden it," Behemoth explained blandly. "She wouldn’t tell me where it was."
摘要：

DEVILONTHEMOONADocSavageAdventureByKennethRobesonThispagecopyright©2001BlackmaskOnline.http://www.blackmask.com?ChapterI.MANINTHEMETEOR?ChapterII.STRANGEMENANDSTRANGEQUESTIONS?ChapterIII.BLUEGLASSROD?ChapterIV.BEHEMOTH,QUEERMAN?ChapterV.THEIDEAMAN?ChapterVI.THEFOX?ChapterVII.THEUNDECEIVED?ChapterVII...

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