wharf.
“Joined the Polar Bear Club, Richard?” Cole, grinning, was standing a few feet away.
“He’s in that building there,” said the Avenger. “If we—”
“Holy moley!” said Cole.
The sea museum had begun to burn. Flames were eating at its walls already. Black smoke was corkscrewing out of the broken window.
“He must have fired it himself,” said Benson, running along the wharf.
“One of his fingers may have a built-in lighter,” suggested Cole, jogging alongside him.
The fire was taking hold incredibly fast. Already the walls seemed more scarlet flame than wood.
“I’ll see if I can—”
Cole caught hold of Benson’s arm. “Richard, even you aren’t going to be able to go in there. Another minute and the whole place is going to be blazing.”
The Avenger allowed his grinning lieutenant to stop him. “You’re right, Cole.” He shook his head. “I didn’t think he was a man to take his own life.”
“Suicide is quite a fad among foreign agents,” said Cole. “We’ve run into it before.”
“A brilliant man,” said the Avenger.
“He was Ulrich Blau-Montag,” said Cole, “or what was left of him.”
“Yes, he told me.”
The museum now was one single pillar of fire, roaring up thirty feet into the black of the night.
Nearby, the giant plaster clown seemed to be laughing at the Iron Skull’s funeral pyre.
CHAPTER XXVI
Catching Up
Smitty was puzzled. He walked along the block again, eyeing the destination his tracking box had led him to. Directly across the street from him was a small garage-gas station, operated solely, it appeared, by a little gray-haired old lady. “She don’t look like no robot manufacturer,” he said to himself.
The old lady was dressed in overalls and a ski parka. She was pumping gas for an elderly Plymouth and was obviously the person referred to in the garage’s name—Granny’s Auto Repair.
Smitty crossed the street and glanced at the lighted garage. “Yeah, there’s the jalopy Nevins was driving . . . Hey! It’s all banged up.”
“All my receipts are already at the Merchants & Carpenters Bank,” the old lady called to him as her customer drove out.
“Huh?” The giant halted beside a gas pump.
“If you’re a stickup artist,” Granny told him, “I want you to know there’s hardly any money or ration stamps around. In fact, I’m just closing for supper.”
“Aw, I ain’t no crook,” Smitty assured her. “What I was curious about is that car, the dark sedan you got up on the rack over there. Think it belongs to a pal of mine I’m looking for.”
“Fellow took a skid out on the highway.”
“What sort of guy?”
“Didn’t see him personal. He had a pleasant speaking voice on the phone. Asked me to have his car picked up and hauled in here to fix,” the little old lady explained. “I had my nephew, Merle, drive out and get it. Fellow left us twenty dollars hid in the sun visor.”
“Yeah, he’s a swell guy that way.” Obviously Nevins must have had an accident while the Avenger and Nellie were on his tail. After the accident, the Avenger had arranged to have the man’s car hauled away. But where was Nevins now? And where were the Avenger and Nellie?
“. . . told him I couldn’t work on his car until maybe next week, since Merle doesn’t know his ear from his elbow when it comes to repairs. Got to do everything myself. This fellow said that was perfectly okay with—”
“Thanks a lot, Granny,” said Smitty. “You been a big help.”
He hurried back to his car to get in touch with Nellie on his two-way radio.
“Huh?”
“I said,” repeated Nellie into her speaker, “there’s a hot time in the old town tonight, as in the famed old ballad.”
“Don’t go talking like Cole at a time like this,” admonished Smitty. “What’s up?”
Nellie was sitting in the parked car. From here she could see the fire that was eating at the amusement park. “The joint’s on fire.”
“What
“Joined the Polar Bear Club, Richard?” Cole, grinning, was standing a few feet away.
“He’s in that building there,” said the Avenger. “If we—”
“Holy moley!” said Cole.
The sea museum had begun to burn. Flames were eating at its walls already. Black smoke was corkscrewing out of the broken window.
“He must have fired it himself,” said Benson, running along the wharf.
“One of his fingers may have a built-in lighter,” suggested Cole, jogging alongside him.
The fire was taking hold incredibly fast. Already the walls seemed more scarlet flame than wood.
“I’ll see if I can—”
Cole caught hold of Benson’s arm. “Richard, even you aren’t going to be able to go in there. Another minute and the whole place is going to be blazing.”
The Avenger allowed his grinning lieutenant to stop him. “You’re right, Cole.” He shook his head. “I didn’t think he was a man to take his own life.”
“Suicide is quite a fad among foreign agents,” said Cole. “We’ve run into it before.”
“A brilliant man,” said the Avenger.
“He was Ulrich Blau-Montag,” said Cole, “or what was left of him.”
“Yes, he told me.”
The museum now was one single pillar of fire, roaring up thirty feet into the black of the night.
Nearby, the giant plaster clown seemed to be laughing at the Iron Skull’s funeral pyre.
CHAPTER XXVI
Catching Up
Smitty was puzzled. He walked along the block again, eyeing the destination his tracking box had led him to. Directly across the street from him was a small garage-gas station, operated solely, it appeared, by a little gray-haired old lady. “She don’t look like no robot manufacturer,” he said to himself.
The old lady was dressed in overalls and a ski parka. She was pumping gas for an elderly Plymouth and was obviously the person referred to in the garage’s name—Granny’s Auto Repair.
Smitty crossed the street and glanced at the lighted garage. “Yeah, there’s the jalopy Nevins was driving . . . Hey! It’s all banged up.”
“All my receipts are already at the Merchants & Carpenters Bank,” the old lady called to him as her customer drove out.
“Huh?” The giant halted beside a gas pump.
“If you’re a stickup artist,” Granny told him, “I want you to know there’s hardly any money or ration stamps around. In fact, I’m just closing for supper.”
“Aw, I ain’t no crook,” Smitty assured her. “What I was curious about is that car, the dark sedan you got up on the rack over there. Think it belongs to a pal of mine I’m looking for.”
“Fellow took a skid out on the highway.”
“What sort of guy?”
“Didn’t see him personal. He had a pleasant speaking voice on the phone. Asked me to have his car picked up and hauled in here to fix,” the little old lady explained. “I had my nephew, Merle, drive out and get it. Fellow left us twenty dollars hid in the sun visor.”
“Yeah, he’s a swell guy that way.” Obviously Nevins must have had an accident while the Avenger and Nellie were on his tail. After the accident, the Avenger had arranged to have the man’s car hauled away. But where was Nevins now? And where were the Avenger and Nellie?
“. . . told him I couldn’t work on his car until maybe next week, since Merle doesn’t know his ear from his elbow when it comes to repairs. Got to do everything myself. This fellow said that was perfectly okay with—”
“Thanks a lot, Granny,” said Smitty. “You been a big help.”
He hurried back to his car to get in touch with Nellie on his two-way radio.
“Huh?”
“I said,” repeated Nellie into her speaker, “there’s a hot time in the old town tonight, as in the famed old ballad.”
“Don’t go talking like Cole at a time like this,” admonished Smitty. “What’s up?”
Nellie was sitting in the parked car. From here she could see the fire that was eating at the amusement park. “The joint’s on fire.”
“What
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