crime.
That this was super crime he was now sure since hearing the results of police investigations of the collapse of the building wall. The wall had been made to fall by a charge of explosive cleverly placed at the base, in the cellar. The explosive had been touched off from a distance, when Benson came along in his massive sedan. It had been a streamlined death trap, all right. And it seemed as if Lini Waller must have deliberately sent him into it.
And yet how could that be so? It would indicate that the girl was fighting against her own best interests, allied with forces who were trying to get the relics away from her. Who wanted to eliminate The Avenger from the game before he could get a chance to move against them?
Benson went from the Greenwich Station to the Kembridge Building. Wittwar, Conroy, Werner and Mallory were all there in the Foundation office. They were neglecting their own businesses, it seemed, while they made sure of getting the priceless relics of a race that had died out over fifty thousand years ago. They were pretty angry when Benson came in. Wittwar didn’t bother to say “Hello.” He opened up with, “We’re in a fine mess now, Mr. Benson. We were to meet that girl here and arrange for the trip west to wherever those caves are—and she hasn’t shown up. She was to come at nine o’clock.”
“I’ve told you what she has done,” snapped Werner, testily. “She has gone somewhere else. She has approached some other foundation or museum or something, in an effort to get more money. She has crossed us up.”
“So we asked you to come in for a minute or two and advise us,” said Mallory. “We thought possibly you could tell us how to locate her. You see, we don’t know where she is staying, or anything. We have asked her for an address, and she has refused to give us one.”
The Avenger quietly seated himself at one of the chairs placed around the conference table. “She may be in after all,” he said. “There is no reason that I can see why she shouldn’t—and every reason why she should—with two and a half million dollars and much, much more at stake.” It didn’t seem a hundred percent intelligible to the four at the table, from the slightly perplexed looks on their faces, but they didn’t ask for an explanation. You just didn’t demand explanations from the man with the white, paralyzed face.
“I still think there may be something crooked about this business,” snapped Werner. “Not the ancient manuscript. That has been proven to be genuine. But something crooked about the girl. I’ll bet the manuscript is the only thing she and her brother found—if there is a brother.”
“Why would she act as she has?” objected Mallory. “If the bundle of ancient records is all there is, why go through the act of selling us more? She knows she won’t get any money till all the rest of the stuff she has mentioned is located by our men.”
Werner shrugged. “I don’t know what game she has in mind, but it could easily be crooked. Look at the way she acts; won’t even tell where she is staying in New York!”
As they talked, The Avenger studied the four men out of colorless, brilliant eyes. One of these four, he thought, was a crook, an employer of thugs and murderers who would send a six-story wall toppling down on a sedan with three men in it—or would kidnap a girl. Lini Waller had sworn she had told only the four directors of the Wittwar Foundation about the discovery of the ancient relics. Benson believed her. But if that were true, then one of these four was trying to steal the objects instead of buy them—and might be attempting to get the two and a half millions from the Foundation for the relics, and take the relics too. But all of them were respected men in the city.
The Avenger, without seeming to do so, took Wittwar visually apart: burly body, muscular for a man in his fifties; firm, aggressive jaw, clear but rather hard gray eyes. However, Wittwar was,
That this was super crime he was now sure since hearing the results of police investigations of the collapse of the building wall. The wall had been made to fall by a charge of explosive cleverly placed at the base, in the cellar. The explosive had been touched off from a distance, when Benson came along in his massive sedan. It had been a streamlined death trap, all right. And it seemed as if Lini Waller must have deliberately sent him into it.
And yet how could that be so? It would indicate that the girl was fighting against her own best interests, allied with forces who were trying to get the relics away from her. Who wanted to eliminate The Avenger from the game before he could get a chance to move against them?
Benson went from the Greenwich Station to the Kembridge Building. Wittwar, Conroy, Werner and Mallory were all there in the Foundation office. They were neglecting their own businesses, it seemed, while they made sure of getting the priceless relics of a race that had died out over fifty thousand years ago. They were pretty angry when Benson came in. Wittwar didn’t bother to say “Hello.” He opened up with, “We’re in a fine mess now, Mr. Benson. We were to meet that girl here and arrange for the trip west to wherever those caves are—and she hasn’t shown up. She was to come at nine o’clock.”
“I’ve told you what she has done,” snapped Werner, testily. “She has gone somewhere else. She has approached some other foundation or museum or something, in an effort to get more money. She has crossed us up.”
“So we asked you to come in for a minute or two and advise us,” said Mallory. “We thought possibly you could tell us how to locate her. You see, we don’t know where she is staying, or anything. We have asked her for an address, and she has refused to give us one.”
The Avenger quietly seated himself at one of the chairs placed around the conference table. “She may be in after all,” he said. “There is no reason that I can see why she shouldn’t—and every reason why she should—with two and a half million dollars and much, much more at stake.” It didn’t seem a hundred percent intelligible to the four at the table, from the slightly perplexed looks on their faces, but they didn’t ask for an explanation. You just didn’t demand explanations from the man with the white, paralyzed face.
“I still think there may be something crooked about this business,” snapped Werner. “Not the ancient manuscript. That has been proven to be genuine. But something crooked about the girl. I’ll bet the manuscript is the only thing she and her brother found—if there is a brother.”
“Why would she act as she has?” objected Mallory. “If the bundle of ancient records is all there is, why go through the act of selling us more? She knows she won’t get any money till all the rest of the stuff she has mentioned is located by our men.”
Werner shrugged. “I don’t know what game she has in mind, but it could easily be crooked. Look at the way she acts; won’t even tell where she is staying in New York!”
As they talked, The Avenger studied the four men out of colorless, brilliant eyes. One of these four, he thought, was a crook, an employer of thugs and murderers who would send a six-story wall toppling down on a sedan with three men in it—or would kidnap a girl. Lini Waller had sworn she had told only the four directors of the Wittwar Foundation about the discovery of the ancient relics. Benson believed her. But if that were true, then one of these four was trying to steal the objects instead of buy them—and might be attempting to get the two and a half millions from the Foundation for the relics, and take the relics too. But all of them were respected men in the city.
The Avenger, without seeming to do so, took Wittwar visually apart: burly body, muscular for a man in his fifties; firm, aggressive jaw, clear but rather hard gray eyes. However, Wittwar was,
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