The pair prepared to lower Honkey.
At this point, Honkey's hands came up with apparent aimlessness. The finger tips touched each man's face.
Instead of Honkey dropping upon the bed, both thugs collapsed upon it! They made no sound.
Honkey now stumbled back into the other room. The gang assembled there eyed him in surprise.
'Yer'd better go ter bed, Honkey!' snarled the one who had been giving orders.
'Aw — I ain't feelin' so tough.' Honkey muttered.
'Well, take dat crazy mask off, anyway!'
'In a minute,' mumbled Honkey. 'Soon's I find me a chair.'
He weaved among the gangsters. He seemed very unsteady on his feet. To remain erect, he clutched the persons of such men as he passed. Always, his finger tips touched some portion of bare skin.
He came in contact with six men on his way across the room. The six sat in their chairs with a strange rigidity after he had passed.
The gangster who served as straw boss watched. Curiosity rippled over his face. Then came ugly suspicion.
He shucked two big automatics out of his clothing. He covered the reeling driver.
'Stick 'em up!' he snarled.
There was nothing the driver could do but obey. Up went his arms.
At this point, the six gangsters he had touched fell out of their chairs. They made a succession of thumps on the floor. They were unconscious.
'Whew!' gritted the gunman. 'Keep dem hands up!'
He advanced gingerly. With a quick move, he plucked the mask off the driver.
'I t'ought so!' he hissed.
The features revealed were not those of Honkey, the driver.
They were the bronze lineaments of Doc Savage!
Chapter 4
THE BLIND-MAN HUNT
BEWILDERMENT GRIPPED the assembled thugs. They could not comprehend that the bronze man had taken the place of Honkey, back at the uptown skyscraper. It was too much for them to believe that any one could be such a master of voice imitation as to fool them by emulating Honkey's hoarse growl.
They looked at the six of their comrades huddled senseless on the floor. A near-terror distorted their ugly faces.
The bronze man slowly pushed Honkey's cap off his head. The cap was none too clean. It was as though he didn't wish to wear it longer than was necessary.
For a brief instant. his finger tips probed in the bronze hair that lay down like a metal skullcap.
'Keep clawin' fer the ceilin'!' snarled the gang chief.
Doc's arms lifted obediently. His hands nearly touched the ceiling, indicating what a really large man he was.
'Search 'im!' ordered the leader.
Gingerly, four of the thugs advanced. They frisked Doc with practiced fingers. They found some silver coins and a few bills which had belonged to Honkey. These they appropriated. But they unearthed no weapon.
'De umpcha ain't got a rod!' they muttered. The fact that Doc wasn't armed seemed to stun them.
Their leader eyed the six limp hulks on the floor. He moved to the bedroom door. He whitened perceptibly when he saw the two sprawled on the bed.
'I don't savvy dis!' he shivered. 'What messed dem guys up like dat?'
Suddenly his mean eyes narrowed.
'Hunt in his sleeves!' he commanded his men.
They did so — and brought to light a small hypodermic needle.
The leader grasped the needle fearfully between thumb and forefinger. He inspected it.
'So dis is what laid 'em out!' he leered.
The other villains stirred uneasily. They didn't fancy weapons such as this. A gun was more their style.
'Croak 'im!' they suggested.
But their boss shook his head violently.
'Ixnay!' he snapped. 'Dis guy is just de umpcha we need. We're gonna make 'im tell us where old Victor Vail is!'
A marked interest now registered on Doc Savage's bronze features. He was obviously surprised.
'You mean to say you haven't got Victor Vail?' he asked.
The remarkable power of his great voice held the gangsters speechless for a moment. Then their leader spoke sneeringly.
'D'you t'ink we'd be askin' where de guy is if we had 'im?' he demanded. He scowled blackly. 'Say, whatcha drivin at — askin' us if we got 'im?'
'Victor Vail was seized,' Doc replied. 'I naturally supposed you fellows had him. That is why I am here.'
The thugs exchanged angry glares.
'Dat damn Keelhaul de Rosa crowd got 'im first, after all!' one grated.
This morsel was very interesting to Doc Savage. 'You mean to say your outfit and Keelhaul de Rosa's outfit were both after Victor Vail?' he asked.
'Button de lip!' rasped the leader of the thugs. 'I t'ink yer lyin' ter me about anybody gettin' Victor Vail!'
'Den why would he come here?' put in another fellow. 'Don't be a nut! Dat's what the shootin' upstairs was. Yer remember we heard a typewriter turn loose. Dat's what scared us off.'
Doc Savage gave the tiniest of nods. He understood now why the five captured by Monk and Ham had come dashing out of the elevators with their guns in hand. They had heard the machine-gun fire upstairs, and had become terrified.
'I wonder how Keelhaul de Rosa got ahead of us at de skyscraper?' mumbled the leader.
'He tried to grab de blind guy from under our snozzles at de concert hall, didn't he?' asked the other thug. 'He drove off mighty fast in dat taxi, but he could've circled back an' followed de blind guy to dat skyscraper just de same as we did, couldn't he?'
Doc listened with interest to all this. These fellows must have arrived at the concert hall in time to witness the street fight. And they had been cunning enough to keep out of sight.
The leader swore loudly. 'Cripes! Yer remember dat guy in a cab who had a trick mustache? De one dat was puffin' a cigar? He followed de roadster to de skyscraper, den went in right after dis bronze guy an' old Victor Vail. I'll bet dat was Keelhaul de Rosa!'
'What we gonna do?' growled a man. The leader shrugged. 'Ben O'Gard will wanta know about dis. I'll go an' have a talk wit' 'im!'
This apprised Doc of another fact. These men were hirelings of Ben O'Gard!
Victor Vail had mentioned a strange feud between Ben O'Gard and 'Keelhaul' de Rosa on the arctic ice pack. It was evident that this old feud still continued.
But what was back of it? Did Victor Vail's unconsciousness at the time of the disaster to the liner Oceanic, and his awakening with a queer smarting in his back, have anything to do with this mystery?
The leader of the thugs came over and confronted Doc. He looked small and unhealthy before the mighty bronze man. He held up the hypodermic needle.
'What's in dis?' he questioned.
