The Avenger 35 - The Iron Skull Read Online Free PDF Page B

snowy field toward the wooden warehouse. A light snow was falling.
    There was no fence around the place, but a big padlock hung on the front door.
    “Looks like there ain’t nobody home.”
    There was a shed next to the warehouse building. Out of it now hobbled a stooped, gray-bearded man. “Go away, sonny.”
    “You the watchman?”
    “What’s it to you, sonny?” asked the bearded man.
    Smitty walked to the shed. Heat and the smell of coffee were pouring out of the open doorway. “I want to take a look around in the warehouse.”
    “This ain’t no tourist mecca, sonny. Go away, get lost.”
    Fishing out his letter, Smitty said, “I got government authorization to conduct a survey of existing stocks of electronic components in this area. Read this.”
    “You some great big muckymuck?”
    “Middle-sized muckymuck.” Smitty thrust the unfurled letter nearer to him.
    “Hold your horses. Got to get my specs if you want me to read something.” He shuffled back inside, slamming the door in Smitty’s face.
    The giant blew out his breath, scattering snowflakes in his vicinity. “Feel like I’m selling vacuum cleaners door to door.”
    Another minute and the bearded man reappeared. A key ring jingled in his right hand. “Great day you picked to nose around, sonny,” he said, stepping out into the snow. “Colder than a witch’s kiss today.”
    “Maybe I should come back when the spring flowers are blooming, huh?”
    The bearded man said nothing. He hobbled along the gravel path that led from his shed to the locked-up front door of the warehouse. Muttering, he tried several keys on the padlock. Finally he got the right one in the hole, and the lock unlocked. He jerked it away, took hold of the doorknob, and opened the door. “Light switch just to your left,” he said, inviting the giant to enter ahead of him.
    “Thanks,” said Smitty. He crossed the dark threshold and felt around for the switch.
    It was while he was doing that that they jumped him.

CHAPTER X

Strange Interlude
    “I’m Kirby Macauley,” said the man at the other end of the long, steamy greenhouse.
    “I’m Richard Benson,” said the Avenger, “and this is Nellie Gray.”
    Macauley approached them down an aisle between the tables and troughs of plants. “I’ve heard of you both, otherwise I would have told my butler to send you away.” He was a tall man, light-haired, about fifty. “I’m one of the leading rocketry experts in this part of the country, as you know. That means my time is very much in demand. The government even begrudges me my hour each morning among my plants. Being a big man in one’s field, though, means one can even tell the U.S.A. where to head in. You’ve probably found that out yourself, Benson.”
    The Avenger said, “You’ve been informed, I assume, that security measures are being increased.”
    “Yes, yes,” said Macauley. “Lot of foolishness, that. More tax money down the drain. But that’s what war means to the home front, isn’t it? New ways to spend the people’s money. Admiring those tomatoes, Miss Gray?”
    “They’re very handsome,” said the little blonde. “Especially for this time of year.”
    “They’re all right, although nowhere near as tasty as the ones I raised last year,” said the rocket expert. “I can’t obtain the proper kind of plant food any more. Well, we all have to put up with discomforts in wartime. What can I do for you, Benson?”
    “I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
    “Try to be brief, won’t you?”
    “Have you been aware of anyone, here at your estate or anywhere else, who’s taken an unusual interest in your activities?”
    Macauley picked up a pair of tweezers from a work bench. “You must realize, Benson, that I’m something of a celebrity. Before the war several of my books were bestsellers. People are always watching me, staring.” He laughed, a thin nasal laugh. “Of course, I can’t turn around without bumping into a government man.