Archiwum
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"Exactly. It is now perfectly dry, but it was spilled during the search. That means the hunt occurred at least
twelve hours ago."
Doc went into a bedroom. A gasoline lantern lay on the floor. Its fuel-reservoir base had been split open. The
floor about the wreck of the lamp was wet with gasoline.
"You fellows know how fast gasoline evaporates," Doc said. "That gas was spilled less than an hour ago. The
second search was more thorough. They even split open the lantern base."
Johnny adjusted his spectacles which had the magnifier lens.
"I've been noticing things, too," he announced. "The breed lying dead in the front room is a servant. I noticed
clothes which would fit him. These were in a small room in the rear - obviously a servant's room. There were
woman's garments in the room, too. That means he had a wife."
"She's a very large woman, too," Doc agreed. "Her clothes were big. She's an Indian, judging by the bright
colors she affects. Apparently she and her husband were the only servants on the place."
"What about the daughter, Patricia?" Renny rumbled.
DOC did not reply immediately. He roved into a bedroom where feminine garments littered the floor. He
ended his wandering at a wastebasket which had been overturned, and which had held - among other trash -
rumpled cleaning tissues. These were the paper napkins young women use to remove facial creams.
Picking up one of these tissues, Doc crushed it between his sensitive, metal-bard fingers.
"It was used this morning," he said. "That means the young woman was present that recently."
"But where is she now?" Renny boomed. "And where is the fat servant?"
Renny was asking questions as if he thought his bronze chief had been present at whatever had happened here
in the cabin. Renny knew from past experiences that Doc could come upon a scene such as this, and, because
of his weird ability to read vague dews, get a story which came uncannily near being the truth.
"I'll show you," Doc said, thereby proving Renny had not been too optimistic.
Chapter 10. CABIN OF MURDER 57
BRAND OF THE WEREWOLF
Doc beckoned the group outdoors. He pointed to tracks in the soft earth. It had evidently rained at dawn, or
shortly afterward. And distinguishable in the dirt were footprints of three men and two women. One of the
women had worn moccasins, the other low-heeled, hobnailed boots.
"The two women have been kidnaped," Doc said bluntly. The five aides swapped blank glances. How Doc
could look at a set of footprints and tell there had been a kidnaping was beyond their deepest understanding.
Pointing, Doc said: "Notice the tracks show where one of the men shoved the girl - shoved her hard. It was
no playful push. He would hardly have done that if the girl was going with them willingly."
Renny waved acknowledgment with his big hands. "You win, Doc."
"The kidnapers were our friends who escaped in the black monoplane," Doc continued.
The five men were fairly accustomed to this sort of thing - Doc's habit of plucking gems of information out
of thin air. They had seen him do miracles on more than one occasion. But they could not help looking a bit
stunned.
"Holy cow!" Renny rumbled. "I don't see how you can tell that, Doc."
"These tracks were made by the same men who attacked me when I started to follow the trail of luminous
arrows from the train," Doc replied. "Those men were members of the gang who escaped in the plane."
He dropped to a knee and inspected the footprints more thoroughly. Then he reiterated: "I am sure of it! Not
only the size, but certain worn patches on the soles exactly coincide."
"0. K., 0. K.," Renny muttered. "All we need to know now is where the two women prisoners are being held."
"That will take some trailing," Doc replied.
The trail following was an easy matter for a few yards. Then, in the center of a great litter of rocks, the prints
vanished. Nowhere could they be seen.
"They began leaping from rock to rock," Doc decided. "They can't do that forever. We'll circle - "
SCATTERING, Doc and his men ranged the vicinity. They did not spread so widely but that they could hear
each other call, however.
Shortly, Long Tom cried loudly: "Come over here, you guys! I ain't got the trail, but I've got something else!"
The unhealthy-looking electrical wizard was standing near a dense thicket of spruce. At his feet, brownish
stains colored the rank woods grass.
"Blood!" he exclaimed dramatically.
"Thoroughly dried," Doc agreed after a close scrutiny. "Part of it was washed away by the rain last night."
The bronze man swung slowly around the spot, eyes on the ground. Several times, he stopped and parted the
grass. The rain had washed away signs, leaving few that could be read. To eyes less than superbly trained, the
stretch of forest presented absolutely no clew. Penetrating the spruce thicket, Doc spent some time in it.
Chapter 10. CABIN OF MURDER 58
BRAND OF THE WEREWOLF
He came out of the spruce and said: "In there was where the breed was murdered."
"Yeah?" Monk grunted.
"Maybe I should have said, from in there was where he was murdered. The knife must have been thrown.
Signs show the breed came out here to meet some one. Evidently, whoever he was meeting got him with a
knife thrown from the thicket."
"Any chance of trailin' the killer?" Renny demanded.
"No. The fellow was careful to follow rocky ground coming and going. The rain last night wiped out what
few tracks he did make."
Monk had been inspecting the rain-faded prints around the bloodstain. Laboriously, he was finding the tracks
which Doc had discovered almost at a glance.
"The two women evidently found the slain Indian," the homely chemist declared. "They carried him to the
cabin. Here're the tracks. One set was made by boots, the other by moccasins.
Monk glanced over his shoulder. He wanted to see if Doc would verify the deduction. Monk started. His eyes
flew wide.
Doc Savage was nowhere about!
Doc's five friends showed no excitement over the bronze man's disappearance. Doc had a disconcerting habit
of vanishing on certain occasions. Doc had merely glided into the brush, of course, but his going had been so
silent as to seem spectral.
By the time his absence was noticed, Doc had covered scores of yards. He traveled swiftly until he was a full
quarter of a mile from the cabin. Then he swung in a Wide circle.
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