The Avenger 4 - The Devil’s Horns Read Online Free PDF Page A

lips as though they were dry. “Yes, I know of Singell. So does everyone else in town. He is one of our most powerful politicians. He owns, among other things, the Sweet Valley Contracting Co., which gets most of the street and road work in Ashton County. He is a very wealthy man.”
    “Has he anything to do with the conditions in Ashton City?”
    Vautry plainly hedged.
    “That’s pretty hard to say,” he murmured. He held out his hand again. “Well, glad to have met you.”
    The Avenger nodded, with a lack of expression in his colorless, flaming eyes. He started to go.
    “May I ask what you plan to do first?” said Cattridge, clearing his throat.
    “I think I’ll have a talk with Mr. Singell,” said Benson. “Good-by, see you later.”

    He swung out, but went first to the Ashton National Bank for a few words with Willis.
    Arthur Willis, president of the bank, head of the Civic League, was a soft-looking, big man with unblinking gray eyes and a habit of weighing his words very carefully before he spoke. His hand was soft in Benson’s. Meanwhile, his glassy gray eyes took in every detail of The Avenger’s taut body and deadly white face and colorless, icy eyes.
    “The known bad elements in town,” he summed up after a few moments, “are Singell, the politician and contractor; Sisco, night club owner and underworld connection; and Buddy Wilson, notorious public enemy. Together, they form a combination that baffles the law.”
    “The Federal government?” said Benson.
    “They’re too smart to do anything to get the F.B.I, down on them.”
    “You know everyone of importance,” said Benson. “Do you know the newspaper owner, Norman Vautry? Is he all right?”
    “My heavens, yes! Above suspicion. He crusades against crime in his paper and is a member of the Civic League.”
    Benson went from the bank to the big home of John M. Singell. But he didn’t see Singell.
    A man at the door, with a bulge under his left armpit and with hard, wary eyes, took one look at Benson and growled:
    “The boss is out, mister.”
    The Avenger stared at the man with his icy, pale eyes. The man shuffled his feet uneasily at the dynamic impact of that gaze. Benson had learned a lot from this reception.
    The gunman at Singell’s portal had been indiscreet enough to look first at Benson’s hair. Which told the whole story.
    Benson’s visit had been expected. “Look out for a man with white hair and light-gray eyes,” somebody most likely had phoned in to Singell. So orders had gone to the man at the door to keep out anyone of that description.
    Only two men had known ahead of time that Benson meant to come here. Norman Vautry, and Commissioner Cattridge. The Avenger knew men. He was sure Cattridge was honest, if impotent.
    Therefore, Groman’s hunch that the newspaperman was secretly in with the crime ring, seemed justified.
    It must have been Vautry who tipped Singell off.
    “I’ll call another time,” said Benson.
    He walked away from the door. And in the doorway, Singell’s gunman guard stared after the straight, powerful back of the gray steel man with fear in his eyes.
    A fear always thrust into the minds of criminals by the sight of this quiet, rather small man with the snow-white hair and the cold, colorless eyes.

CHAPTER IV

The Devil’s Horns!
    Benson got back to Groman’s apartment building at a little after eleven—and ran into full-fledged hell.
    There was a squad car in front of the door. There were reporters and patrolmen running around. The reason came out as soon as Benson got inside.
    Terry Groman, the old politician’s violet-eyed daughter, came up to Benson with fright and shock in her pretty face.
    “Mr. Hawley—Dad’s secretary—” she gasped. “They got him! He’s dead—”
    Benson pushed on past her and into Groman’s office.
    The room the old lion had made into an office was on the first floor at the side of the building. It was spacious, book-lined, rather bare. The main pieces of