Doc Savage: The Miracle Menace by Kenneth Robeson, Lester Dent, Will Murray

me, and—”
    “You got a nerve accusing me!” Gull shouted.
    “Not accusing, no, but nevertheless the anonymous note—anonymous means unsigned, you know—told me you knew a great deal about the Columbus relics.”
    The intimation that he didn’t know what the word anonymous meant did not help Gull’s temper, and he opened his mouth to express himself on that point, and probably on several others.
    But Spook Davis came galloping out of the filling station.
    “We’ve got it!” Spook exploded. “We’ve got it!”
    GULL said angrily, “We’ve sure got something!” and scowled at the two men in the car; then at Spook Davis. “What ails you?”
    “I was right!” Spook howled.
    “All right,” Gull groaned. “Don’t mix me up any more. Talk sense.”
    “Your relative!”
    “Eh?”
    “The big moose with the hair in his ears is your Uncle Box Daniels!” barked Spook. “He told me so! He’s willing to talk now! He says he was coming to you for help and advice. He says he wants to tell you the whole story.”
    The hard-faced Ivan Cass got out of the limousine.
    “Here’s where I come in,” Cass said. “I don’t know what this is about, but old Box Daniels notified me to come here and serve as his bodyguard. He said he was coming to see Gulliver Greene, his nephew, and that somebody might try to stop him, might even kill him if they could. Well, I’m here to protect him.”
    Box Daniels was hardly in need of protection, because he lay on his back under the open compressor room window with his right temple caved in. Like a black island in the puddle that had leaked from the temple lay the weapon which had taken old Box’s life.
    Gull, staring at the weapon, knew it for one of the heavy, brass-bound shoes which the disturbing girl, Saint Pete, had been wearing.

Chapter X
    BIG NECK
    DOC SAVAGE TOOK a moment to compose himself.
    This in itself was highly unusual. The bronze giant had been schooled to conceal all outward emotional display. This had been a part of his rigorous training, the scientific system that made him a virtual superman.
    Doc put out his arms and made of his fists two blocks of bronze. He stared at them as if exerting a supreme effort of will to make his fingers flex into the shapes of fists.
    He did so with studied purpose, as if attempting to contain an inner excitement.
    For a moment, the bronze man did not seem to know what to do with himself. So without warning, he launched into a portion of the two-hour routine of exercises that had been his habit since very, very young.
    These were responsible for his tremendous muscular development and astounding mental powers.
    This was the physical regimen. Doc removed his shirt and thus stripped to the upper waist, went into a run of calisthenics that included pitting his fabulous muscles against one another. Muscles formerly in repose now sprang forth like bundled wire and cables, as if straining to emerge from skin resembling flexible bronze.
    When he was done, some fifteen minutes later, a thin sheen of perspiration bathed his upper torso, making their metallic aspect all the more distinct. His flake-gold eyes, which had been whirling violently, now settled down to their customary eerie currents and eddies.
    Quietly, Doc Savage donned his shirt and faced the others.
    “How long was I away?” he asked quietly.
    Monk spoke up. “About three hours.”
    Doc nodded. “Two hours and fifty minutes passed by my watch.”
    “Where were you?” asked Ham curiously.
    “Where I was, it was broad daylight, a little past the noon hour,” answered the bronze man in an odd tone.
    Doc’s men looked to one another. Sunrise was creeping up above the bushy tree line.
    Johnny popped a question. “How can that be?”
    Instead of answering directly, Doc Savage rapped, “It is imperative that we locate Big Neck.”
    “Who?”
    “The Indian brave who attempted to scalp Renny. He is called Big Neck and must be returned to his people.”
    “Who are his