as he came striding in, rubbing his leathery hands together. “All the skurlies are trussed up, and there’s nae a man jack left to oppose us. ’Twas a good fight we put up.”
“So I hear,” said Cole. “Richard is at the moment trailing our host up through the labyrinthine ways which he figures will lead us out of the underground.”
“You’re talking o’ this Iron Skull berkie? I ne’er met him yet,” said the Scot, “and here I’ve been a guest of his for several days.”
“He’s not the politest of chaps.”
“My knuckles are starting to hurt now,” said Kessell as he came into the laboratory. He was massaging his right hand. “You probably won’t believe that I used to be a middleweight. Going to have to start exercising again. Did pretty well, though.”
“Aye, that you did.”
Josh told Cole, “We can leave all these guards and such, plus friend Macauley, down here. Let the FBI or Don Early’s agency come and cart ’em off.”
“Yes, that’s a sound plan,” said Cole. “Anything where someone else does the heavy lifting is a sound plan. What say we step into the wall and see about making our way up to the earth’s surface?” He walked over and flicked the concealed switch.
“One thing after another,” complained Smitty as he threw himself to the floor of Dr. Steinbrunner’s office.
Shards of broken glass were flying around, snow and wind swirling into the room.
The man who’d fired at Smitty tried again. “Take that, jerk!”
This slug thunked into the wooden desk.
“That’s one of the birds who jumped me in the warehouse,” Smitty said to himself. “They must have gone outside for something and then noticed what I was up to in here. I got to get into the habit of pulling the shades.”
With a roar, he suddenly grabbed up a heavy wooden chair and tossed it directly at the broken window the man was shooting through.
The chair whizzed through the window, knocking out what was left of the glass.
“Unk!” said the gunman as all four legs of the chair hit him in the torso.
“Look out below, Hutchison or Harris or whichever one you are!” Smitty took a running jump and dived head first out of the window.
His right hand held the .38. As he was hurtling through the air he got off a shot at the second gunman, who was standing back a few feet from the ruined window.
The slug didn’t connect, but it made the man flinch and duck to one side. Unfortunately, it also caused him to bang into a tree trunk.
While the fellow was still woozy, Smitty grabbed hold of the front of his red mackinaw and threw several punches into his face.
That produced unconsciousness.
Smitty let him drop into the snow. “They must have got a cut rate on them red coats. They all got ’em.”
The other one, either Hutchison or Harris, was still disentangling himself from the hurled chair.
The giant took care of him with two well-delivered blows to the chin.
“Now I think I’ll follow up on that bug I planted in Nevins’s car and see where Dick and Nellie ended up,” Smitty decided. He glanced down at the two sprawled-out gunmen. “Wonder how I’d look in a red coat like that.”
Narrow wheel marks in the snow. The Iron Skull had, very recently, rolled along this amusement part street. Rolled by the boarded-up Freak Arcade and the weight-guessing booth, past the salt-water taffy shop and around the corner.
The Avenger followed in his wake, his unique .22 pistol in his hand.
“He must have some emergency escape plan worked out,” he said to himself. “Possibly a car hidden up here in one of these buildings. And there’s still the man who was on the front gate to give him a hand.”
The Avenger stopped at the end of the street and listened. Then he went around the corner.
There were the tracks. The Iron Skull had passed down this lane, too. Authentic Egyptian Dancing Girls! Straight From Cairo! proclaimed a battered sign. Are You Man Enough To Rassle Norbert The Mighty? asked
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