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

any of you use this?” he asked.
    None of his men admitted to having dug out the screwdriver for any reason.
    Doc Savage felt of the screwdriver. The handle was cool to the touch. But it was a very cool night.
    Replacing the screwdriver in a tool box, the bronze man went forward and took the control bucket.
    Doc and his men were accustomed to taking long flights to faraway points on the globe. Each had their assigned places on such ventures. Monk slid in the co-pilot’s seat, next to Doc. Renny dropped his big bulk into the navigator’s station. Long Tom took over the radio cubicle, and placed a radio headset over his oversized ears.
    Lastly, Ham Brooks closed the plane door, then took a comfortable seat. He had brought along a law book to read. Over time, he would spell Monk or Long Tom at their stations. But for the moment he had nothing to do.
    While Doc Savage warmed up the four radial motors, Ham said to no one in particular, “It is a distinct pleasure not to have that infernal hog along for a long trip.”
    No one said anything to that, and Ham cocked one ear to capture any piggy sounds in the cabin. There was a tiny rattle that made him suspicious.
    “Do not tell me that pig is on board!” he flared.
    Monk called, “You know I hadda leave him behind in New York.”
    “Yes,” sniffed Ham. “But you have promised that before, yet managed to smuggle that infernal pest along.”
    Ham continued listening, thought he detected something. Glowering, he rushed to the back of the cabin, waving his cane around like a pig-sticker. But his violent sweeps failed to stir any pig that might be present.
    Half-satisfied, the dapper lawyer returned to his seat, and complained, “I thought I heard something rattling back there.”
    “It was your tiny brain rattlin’ around in your narrow skull,” goaded Monk.
    Ham’s sharp retort was lost in the thunder of the four mighty engines as the air giant lurched ahead.
    The flying boat began traveling, eating up the short runway at an alarming pace. Doc lifted the plane into the air. He pointed the howling motors north, and then settled down for the long hop to the Fortress of Solitude.
    AS the big flying boat passed over Canada, curiosity over what Johnny Littlejohn discovered in Mongolia had reached the boiling point among the bronze man’s aides.
    Long Tom was the first to broach the matter. The puny electrical wizard was probably the most temperamental of Doc Savage’s men, with the possible exception of the excitable Ham. Also, he had very little to do at the radio.
    “Will someone fill me in on why we’re charging off to Mongolia in the middle of a world war?”
    Doc Savage was a naturally reticent person. He was not given to long conversations, or broaching theories before he had all the facts at hand.
    Still, it was going to be a very long flight, and no doubt boring if they were lucky. The bronze man knew he would have to reveal what motivated him to leave in such a hurry.
    “Johnny was digging for prehistoric human bones on the Mongolian steppes,” he began. “During the course of this, his party was attacked by bandits. There was a fight. Johnny had to unloose explosive shells from his supermachine pistol, and in doing so exposed an ice cave of unknown age.”
    “Sounds interesting,” rumbled Renny. “But where’s the blamed fire?”
    “That’s what I want to know,” said Long Tom sourly.
    “In this ice cave, Johnny discovered a body entirely encapsulated by ice.”
    “Like those mastodons—or were they woolly mammoths?—that were discovered frozen in ice a few years back?” grunted Renny.
    “Exactly.”
    “They defrosted those big boogers, and fed the sled dogs the cooked meat. They said it tasted pretty fresh.”
    Monk’s squeaky voice exploded, “Blazes! You don’t suppose that man in the ice could still be alive?”
    Doc Savage was a long time in replying.
    “There have been incidents in which creatures have been extracted from ice, and