Doc Savage: The Ice Genius (The Wild Adventures of Doc Savage Book 12) Read Online Free PDF

it.”
    “Thank you.”
    “But operate on the gland only,” cautioned Doc. “We will not attempt to erase his memory surgically. At least, not at present.”
    “Very well. I will give the man some excuse so that he will submit to the operation.”
    Doc Savage added, “My men and I will be away, possibly for weeks. But radio us your results. It would be a load off our minds to know that this matter has been advanced toward a permanent solution.”
    With that, Doc Savage turned to go.
    He stepped out into the hallway and moved swiftly to rejoin his men waiting in the outer lobby.
    Neither the bronze giant nor his chief surgeon noticed that around the corner, the tiny fellow who had been Cadwiller Olden had been huddled inside a wastebasket.
    The basket appeared full, although it was not. After Doc had departed, and the door to the chief surgeon’s office closed, the pile of crumpled papers which had crowned the wastebasket fell away, exposing a small but perfectly formed man’s head.
    Monzingo Baldwin, alias Cadwiller Olden, lifted his head out of the paper debris. His dark eyes were very open, and very, very stark. He had overheard everything. And from the expression on his features, the knowledge he obtained had shaken him to his very core.
    Hastily, the midget extracted himself from the wastebasket and carefully replaced every scrap of paper.
    Then, he went running out of sight as fast as his little legs could carry him. The expression on his tiny features was terrible to see. It was as if the little man were struggling to keep from bawling his eyes out.

Chapter IV
    STRANGE SILENCE
    WHEN Doc Savage rejoined his men in the lobby, he found Monk and Ham engaged in one of their routine rows.
    Renny Renwick eyed Doc Savage and asked gloomily, “Want me to knock their blocks off? I’m not up to hearing them squabbling all the way to Mongolia.”
    Monk glowered at the big-fisted engineer and growled, “Any time you’re feelin’ lucky, big fists.”
    Ham Brooks, for a miracle, took Monk’s part. “If you want to wring his thick neck, you will have to get past me first.”
    Renny grunted, “When did you fall in love with him?”
    Ham gave his sword cane a flourish in the homely chemist’s direction. “I have been looking to brain Monk Mayfair since we first met,” he said loftily. “And I will not be cheated out of the pleasure.”
    Apart from this muscular exchange, Long Tom Roberts was staring out a window. Like all of the windows of the strange installation, this one was made of very thick glass reinforced by chicken-wire. The stuff made it difficult to see the grounds outside with clarity.
    “Pipe down!” the puny electrical wizard grumbled. “I think I see a fox prowling around our plane.”
    Ham bleated, “We left the door open! Better look into this.”
    They made a concerted rush for the plane.
    All seemed normal when they reached the big leviathan.
    Monk came to a stop by the aircraft, commenced exploring it with his pocket flashlight.
    Doc Savage remained under the wings, and was scrutinizing the ground with his acute golden eyes.
    Then he climbed aboard.
    “No fox tracks,” he told the others. “Just those of our party, and Monzingo Baldwin, from our arrival.”
    Long Tom said sourly, “Well, through that chicken glass, it was hard to tell.”
    Still, Doc Savage made a tour of the interior and discovered nothing amiss.
    The bronze giant, hardened by years of negotiating peril, overlooked nothing where the safety of his men was concerned.
    Monk joined him in the rear, and asked, “Is that the big radio you were talkin’ about?”
    Doc nodded. The radio was mounted upon caster-type wheels. Straps affixed to the bulkheads held it in place, preventing it from rolling around and damaging itself during flight.
    Doc was examining the straps to make sure they still held properly.
    As he did so, the bronze man discovered a short-handled screwdriver which lay on the metal floor. He picked it up.
    “Did