The Avenger 8 - The Glass Mountain Read Online Free PDF

arms and a face that wasn’t too bright said:
    “That’s fair enough. Get the white-haired guy here and we’ll see what we’ll see.”
    “Ye’re a fair pack o’loonies,” barked MacMurdie. “Do ye believe in ghosts as well as spirits?”
    But the damage was done. Work was demoralized till this new subtle barb of the ancient Indian could be turned away.

    Mac stared off toward where Benson, at that moment, was standing beside his transit. He waved. But The Avenger had already seen, and he had sensed the meaning of the men’s behavior. He started toward the tunnel site.
    He could see Josh, at that point, and he could see the men and machines. But an out-thrust bastion of the glass mountain kept Josh from seeing the men, or vice versa.
    He saw that the Negro was sitting on a rock now, near the Donald Duck outcropping, waiting for further orders.
    The Avenger got to where the men waited, sullen-faced.
    Smitty was with them now. He shook his head at his chief.
    “They’ve sure got a crazy one now,” he snorted. “Mac was just telling me.”
    The Scot’s lips were thin with disgust and anger.
    “They want ye to play Ajax defyin’ the lightnin’, Muster Benson,” he said. “That crazy old Indian—”
    “Where is he now?” asked Benson, pale eyes on the muttering men.
    “Ye’ll do me a favor if ye can tell me that,” Mac shrugged. “He did the most complete disappearin’ act I’ve ever seen. One minute he was here—the next he was no place.
    “Anyhow, he tells the men to see whether you are the master here, or the Rain God. You’re to challenge the Rain God, to show his hand. Like I say, it’s to be like Ajax defyin’ the lightnin’ to strike him down. Can ye think of a sillier thing?”
    But The Avenger did not laugh at the fantastic proposal. His face seemed whiter than ever, and his eyes colder, as the flaming genius behind them tackled the problem.
    “There’s a curious method in all this,” he mused at last.
    “Method?” said Smitty.
    “Yes. There must be. It is desired that I go through a theatrical procedure of defying the Rain God. Why? There must be some good reason; or, rather, a very bad reason.”
    “Ye think it’s some kind of trap, Muster Benson?” said the Scot.
    “Yes—I do! But a trap so fantastic and unusual that its meaning is not yet even to be guessed at. Well, let’s—”
    He walked toward the knot of workmen.
    Smitty and Mac followed anxiously. “Ye’re goin’ to do it?” said Mac.
    The Avenger nodded, eyes never colder or paler.
    “Yes! I’d like to see what happens. Something is certainly scheduled to occur if I defy the Rain God. There would be no point in goading me into doing it otherwise.”
    “But, mon,” pleaded Mac, “ye mustn’t do it. If somethin’s planned by somebody, it’d be planned against the mon who did the defyin’ act.”
    The Avenger’s pale eyes didn’t even flicker.
    “Of course,” he said. “Otherwise, if my act placed someone else in danger, I wouldn’t do it.”
    He was within shouting distance of the workmen by now. They had seen the giant and the sandy-haired Scot talking to him and guessed it was about what the Indian had said.
    “Well,” called the squat man with the not-too-bright face, “have you got the guts to do it?”
    Benson came on without answering.
    “The Indian said if you’d challenge the Rain God you’d see who was strongest here,” yelled another man. “Let’s see you try.”
    Still Benson didn’t say anything.
    “He ain’t got the nerve,” a third man jeered. “He’s too yellow.”
    There was a low flat rock in the middle of the crew. The Avenger was making for that. He got to the ring of men. Now, closer to them, the pale, cold eyes seemed to slash at them like knife blades. The tremendous power subtly proclaiming itself in Benson’s average-sized body awed them. No one man wanted to jeer at him now. They realized that it was pretty ridiculous to call this man afraid of