The Avenger 36 - Demon Island Read Online Free PDF

we call ’em concealed, peanut brain, is because they’re concealed. If you hadn’t tripped him up and sapped him, he’d have gone on about his business.”
    “Maybe yes, maybe no.”
    “The morale down here,” observed Cole, “doesn’t seem of too high an order.”
    “Shut up.”
    “Enough shouting,” admonished Morrison. On the wooden table beside him, within the glow cast by the oil lamp, was Cole’s wallet. “Your name seems vaguely familiar to me, Mr. Wilson.”
    “I am in the gossip columns quite often.”
    Tucker said, “Are you in the movies? I don’t go to the movies much, but I don’t—”
    “Holy mackerel!” exclaimed Stark suddenly. “Cole Wilson. I used to hear stories about him while I was in stir. He’s a cop.”
    “On the contrary,” said Cole.
    “Yeah,” continued Stark, “he works with that guy they call the Avenger. Cole Wilson of Justice, Incorporated. That’s who you nabbed, Tucker.”
    “How did I know that,” said Tucker. “And what the hell is Justice, Incorporated? I don’t read the papers much.”
    “A bunch of special cops, racketbusters,” said Stark. He leaned over Cole. “How’d you get wind of what we were up to?”
    Grinning, Cole said, “I assure you I don’t know, even at this moment, what you are up to. I’m on Demon Island to watch some friends of mine make a movie.” He took the three of them in with a glance. “Unless you’ve kidnapped Miss Fiddler, I have no notion of why you’re here.”
    Morrison sucked in his breath and let it out. “What are you talking about? Kidnapped who?”
    “Fanny Fiddler, rising young cinemactress. I fell into your rabbit snare while trying to find her.”
    “This island,” muttered Tucker. “There’s always something strange going on.”
    “What makes you think this girl has been kidnapped?” Morrison asked.
    “It seems a logical conclusion,” replied Cole. “Although it’s equally possible she climbed out her bedroom window at midnight clad in nothing but her nightclothes.” He frowned, scanning the room. “If you really don’t have her, I wonder what happened to her.”
    “We’re not interested in dames,” said Stark. “Not for kidnapping anyhow.”
    “If we’d been able to find what we came here for,” said Morrison, “our paths wouldn’t have crossed at all, Mr. Wilson.”
    “Then you chaps don’t live here all year round?”
    “These premises were built, and cleverly concealed, over fifteen years ago, by a group of gentlemen engaged in what was then popularly known as rumrunning,” explained the fat man. “To the best of our knowledge, we are the only living souls who are aware of their existence.”
    “Sounds very exciting,” said Cole. “If I promise not to tell anyone you’re lurking here, can I go? I really am on a vacation.”
    “When our objective is obtained,” said Morrison, “we will release you, Mr. Wilson. Until then you must remain here.”
    “In that case, allow me to wish you godspeed,” said Cole.
    Stark shook his head. “I don’t see any sense in letting him go when we’re finished here,” he said. “The easiest and safest thing would be to knock him off. That way he don’t talk to anybody.”
    “Out of the question.”
    Stark stalked to the doorway. “Oh, yeah?”

CHAPTER IX

The Arrival of Dr. Winters
    The bearded young man in the rumpled tweed suit walked determinedly across the gritty morning beach of Demon Island. An amply stuffed and visibly venerable briefcase swung from his right hand.
    Following in his wake came Nellie Gray, with a pair of rimless spectacles on, and Smitty hefting a small trunk on his shoulder and a suitcase in each hand.
    “You there,” said Benson, hailing the curious film crewman who’d come down to watch their motor launch land. “Would you kindly summon Mr. . . .” He fetched a note out of a cluttered inner pocket. “Mr. Terence O’Malley.”
    “He’s working right now, but I can take you up there,” offered