The Polar Treasure

Chapter 2 THE CLICKING DANGER

AS HE was whipped along New York streets in the speedy gray roadster, it suddenly dawned on Victor Vail that he knew nothing about his rescuer. He didn't even understand why he had accompanied the strange man so readily.

The blind violinist was not in the habit of meekly permitting unknowns to lead him about. Yet he had gone with this mighty stranger as docilely as a lamb.

"Are you a messenger sent to take me to Ben O'Gard?" he asked.

"No," came the bronze giant's amazing voice. "I do not even know any one by that name."

Victor Vail was so intrigued by the beauty of his unusual companion's vocal tones that he could not speak for a moment.

"May I ask who you are?" he inquired.

"Doc Savage," said the bronze man.

"Doc Savage," Victor Vail murmured. He seemed disappointed. "I am sorry, but I do not believe I have heard the name before."

The bronze giant's lips made a faint smile.

"That is possible," he said. "Perhaps I should have been more formal in giving you my name. It is Clark Savage, Jr."

At this, Victor Vail gave a marked start.

"Clark Savage, Jr!" he gasped in a tone of awe. "Why, among the violin selections I rendered in my concert tonight was a composition by Clark Savage, Jr. In my humble opinion, and to the notion of other artists, that composition is one of the most masterly of all time. Surely, you are not the composer?"

"Guilty!" Doc admitted "And it is not flattery when I say the selection was never rendered more beautifully than by your hand to-night. Indeed, your marvelous playing was one of two things which led me backstage. I wished to compliment you. I noted the furtive manner of the man leading you outside, and followed. That is how I happened to be on hand."

"What was the second thing which led you to seek me out?" Victor Vail asked curiously.

"That is something I shall explain later," Doc replied. "I hope you do not mind accompanying me."

"Mind!" Blind Victor Vail laughed. "It is a privilege!"

The sightless master of the violin,indeed, considered it such. He had many times wondered about the mysterious Clark Savage, Jr., who had composed that great violin selection. Strangely enough, the composer was listed as an unknown. He had claimed no credit for the marvelous piece of work.

This was astounding in itself, considering what moneymad beings the human race had become. The composer could have ridden to a fortune on the strength of that one selection.

Victor Vail could not help but wonder and marvel at the powers of this strange man who had rescued him.

AS THE roadster wended its way through the heavy traffic of the theatrical district, no one noticed one particular cab which followed Doc Savage and the blind violinist; not even Doc.

The seafaring man who had directed the ill-fated attempt to capture Victor Vail occupied the machine. However, he had stuffed his cheeks with gum, donned dark glasses, stuck a false mustache to his lip, thrust a cigar in his teeth, and changed his cap. He looked like a different man.

"Keelhaul me!" he snarled repeatedly to himself. "I gotta get that Victor Vail! I gotta!"

Doc's roadster halted finally before one of the largest buildings in New York. This was a gigantic white thorn of brick and steel which speared upward nearly a hundred stories.

Doc Savage led the blind violinist inside. They entered an elevator. The cage climbed with a low moan to the eighty-sixth floor. Noiselessly, the doors slid back.

They now entered a sumptuously furnished office. This held an inlaid table of great value, a steel safe so large it reached to the bronze giant's shoulder, and many comfortable chairs. A vast window gave an impressive view of a forest of other skyscrapers.

Doc ensconced Victor Vail in a luxurious chair. He gave the musician a cigar of such price and quality that it came in an individual vacuum container. Doc did not smoke, himself.

"If you do not mind telling, I should like to know what was behind that attack upon you to-night," Doc said.

The unusual voice of the bronze man held a strangely compelling quality. Victor Vail found himself answering without the slightest hesitancy.

"I am completely in the dark as to the reason," he said "I have no enemies. I do not know why they tried to seize me."

"Those who seized you had the earmarks of hired thugs. But there was a man in the cab, a sailor. He shouted at the others several times. Did you recognize his voice?"

Victor Vail shook his head slowly. "I did not hear it. I was too dazed."

Silence fell for a moment.

Then the office abruptly rang with the coarse tones of the seafaring man!

"Sink 'im, mateys!" it shrilled. "Scuttle 'im! Use your guns!"

Victor Vail sprang up with a startled cry.

"It's Keelhaul de Rosa!" he shouted. "Watch him closely, Mr. Savage! The devil once tried to kill me!"

"Keelhaul de Rosa is not here," Doc said gently.

"But his voice spoke just then!"

"What you heard was my imitation of the voice of the sailor in the taxi," Doc explained. "I repeated his words. Obviously, that man was Keelhaul de Rosa, as you call him."

Victor Vail sank back in his chair. He fumbled with the fine cigar. He mopped his forehead.

"I would have sworn it was Keelhaul de Rosa speaking," he muttered. "Why — why — holy smoke! What manner of man are you, anyhow?"

Doc passed the question up as though he hadn't heard it. He disliked to speak of his accomplishments, even though it might be but a few words that were well deserved.

A truly remarkable man, this golden-eyed giant of bronze!

"Suppose you tell me what you know of Keelhaul de Rosa," Doc said.

The blind man ran long fingers through his white hair. It was apparent he was becoming excited.

"Why, bless me!" he muttered. "Could this mystery go back to the destruction of the Oceanic? It must!"

WITH A pronounced effort, Victor Vail composed himself. He began speaking rapidly.

"The story goes back more than fifteen years," he said. "It was during the World War. My wife, my infant daughter, and myself sailed from Africa on the liner Oceanic. We were bound for England.

"But an enemy sea raider chased the liner northward. The enemy boat could not overhaul us, but it pursued our craft for days. Indeed, the Oceanic sailed far within the arctic ice pack before escaping. "

"The liner was trapped in the ice. It drifted for months, and was carried by the ice far within the polar regions."

Victor Vail paused to puff his cigar.

"Trouble with the crew arose as food ran short," he continued. "A shell from the enemy raider had destroyed our wireless. We could not advise the outside world of our difficulty. The crew wanted to desert the liner. although the master of the vessel assured them the ice pack was impassable."

Victor Vail touched his eyes. "You understand. I am telling this only as I heard it. I, of course, saw nothing. I only heard.

"The leaders of the crew were two men Ben O'Gard was one. Keelhaul de Rosa was the other. They were persuaded not to desert the liner."

Victor Vail suddenly covered his face with his hands.

"Then came the disaster. The liner was crushed in the ice. Only Ben O'Gard. Keelhaul de Rosa, and about thirty of the Oceanic's crew escaped. I was also among the survivors, although that is a mystery I do not yet understand."

"What do you mean?"

"I was seized by members of the crew two days before the disaster, and made unconscious with an anaesthetic. I did not revive until the day following the destruction of the Oceanic. Then I awakened with a strange pain in my back."

"Describe the pain, suggested Doc.

"It was a sort of smarting, as though I had been burned."

"Any scars on your back now?"

"None. That is the mysterious part."

"Who saved you when the liner was lost?"

"Ben O'Gard," said the blind violinist. "He was hauling me across the ice on a crude sledge when I revived. I owe Ben O'Gard my life. Not only for that, but, some days later, Keelhaul de Rosa seized me and tried to carry me off by force. He and Ben O'Gard had a terrific fight, O'Gard rescuing me. After that, Keelhaul de Rosa fled with several of his followers. We never got trace of them again."

"Until to-night," Doc put in mildly.

"That is right — until to-night," Victor Vail agreed. "It was Keelhaul de Rosa who tried to seize me!"

The sightless musician now put his face in his hands again. His shoulders convulsed a little. He was sobbing!

"My poor wife," he choked. "And my darling little daughter, Roxey! Ben O'Gard told me he tried to save them, but they perished."

Doc Savage was silent. He knew Victor Vail's story must have brought back memories of his wife and infant daughter.

"Little Roxey, that was my daughter's name," murmured the musician.

DOC SAVAGE finally spoke.

"It strikes me as rather strange that the story about the fate of the liner Oceanic did not appear in the newspapers. Such a yarn would have made all the front pages."

Victor Vail gave a start of surprise. "But — didn't it?"

"That is strange! Ben O'Gard told me it had. Personally, I never mentioned the incident. The memory is too painful." The sightless violinist paused. He made a finger-snapping gesture of surprise.

"That is another mystery! Why should Ben O'Gard tell me falsely that every one knew the story of the awful fate of the Oceanic?"

"Perhaps he desired to keep the fate of the liner a secret," Doc offered. "Did he suggest that you keep quiet?"

"Why — why — I recall that he did bring up the subject! And I told him I never wanted to hear of the ghastly affair again!"

Doc's great voice suddenly acquired a purr of interest.

"I should like very much to know what actually happened during that period you were unconscious!" he said.

Victor Vail stiffened slightly.

"I refuse to listen to anything against Ben O'Gard!" he snapped. "The man saved my life! He tried to save my wife and baby daughter!"

"You will hear nothing against him," Doc smiled. "I judge no one without proof."

Doc did not point out that Victor Vail only had Ben O'Gard's word about that life-saving business.

The blind man rubbed his jaw in a puzzled way.

"Perhaps I should mention another strange thing which may be connected with this," he said. "The mystery which I call the 'Clicking Danger'!"

"By all means! Leave out nothing."

"It has been nearly fifteen years since I last met Ben O'Gard," muttered Victor Vail. "With Ben O'Gard's faction of the survivors was a sailor with a nervous ailment of his jaws. This malady caused his teeth to chatter together at intervals, making a weird clicking noise. The sound used to get on my nerves.

"Here is the mystery: At frequent intervals during the

last fifteen years, I have heard, or thought I heard, that clicking noise. I have gotten into the habit of playfully calling it the 'Clicking Danger.'

"Actually, nothing has ever come of it. In fact, I rather thought it was my imagination entirely, instead of the sailor. Why should the fellow follow me all over the world for fifteen years."

"It is possible Ben O'Gard has been keeping track of you," Doc replied.

The sightless master of the violin considered this in a somewhat offended silence.

Doc Savage studied Victor Vail's eyes intently. After a bit, he came over to the musician. He led the man across an adjacent room. This was a vast library. It held hundreds of thousands of ponderous volumes concerning every conceivable branch of science. This was probably the second most complete scientific library in existence.

The one collection of such tomes greater than this was unknown to the world. No one but Doc Savage was aware of its existence. For that superb library was at the spot he called his Fortress of Solitude. a retreat in a corner of the globe so remote and inaccessible that only Doc knew its whereabouts.

To this Fortress of Solitude the giant man of bronze retired periodically. On such occasions, he seemed to vanish completely from the earth, for no living soul could find him. He worked and studied absolutely alone.

It was in these periods of terrific concentration and study that Doc Savage accomplished many of the marvelous things for which he was noted.

BEYOND skyscraper library lay another room — a vast scientific laboratory. This, too, was of a completeness equaled by but one other — the laboratory at Doc's Fortress of Solitude.

"What are you going to do?" asked Victor Vail curiously.

"I came backstage to-night to see you for two reasons," Doc replied. "The first was to tell you how I enjoyed your rendition of my violin composition. The second was to examine your eyes."

"You mean — "

"I mean an artist as great as you, Victor Vail, should have the use of his eyes. I wish to examine them to see if vision cannot be returned."

Victor Vail choked. His sightless orbs filled with tears. For an instant, he seemed about to break down.

"It is impossible!" he gulped. "I have been to the greatest eye specialists in the world. They say nothing less than a magician can help me."

"Then we'll try some magic," Doc smiled.

"Please — don't joke about it!" moaned the blind man.

"I'm not joking," Doc said steadily. "I positively can give you sight of sorts. If conditions are as I think, I can give you perfect vision. That is why I wish to examine."

Victor Vail could only gulp and sag into a chair. It did not occur to him to doubt the ability of this mighty being beside him. There was something in the bronze man's voice which compelled belief.

An overpowering wonder seized Victor Vail. What, oh, what manner of person was this bronze master?

A lot of folks had wondered that.

Rapidly, Doc took numerous X-ray pictures of Victor Vail. He also got exposures using rays less familiar to the surgical profession. He continued his examination with ordinary instruments, as well as some the like of which could have been found nowhere else. They were of Doc's own invention.

"Now wait in the outer office while I consider what the examination shows," Doc directed.

Victor Vail went into the outside office. He did not comprehend why, but he had such confidence in the bronze giant's ability that he already felt as though he could see the wonders of a world he had never glimpsed.

For Victor Vail had been born blind.

The sightless violinist would have been even more happy had be known the true extent of Doc Savage's ability. For Doc was a greater master of the field of surgery than of any other.

Doc's composition of the violin selection marked him as one of the greatest in that field. He had done things equally marvelous in electricity, chemistry, botany, psychology, and other lines.

Yet these things were child's play to what he had done with medicine and surgery. For it was in medicine and surgery that Doc had specialized. His first training, and his hardest, had been in these.

Few persons understood the real scope of Doc's incredible knowledge. Even fewer knew how he had gained this knowledge.

Doc had undergone intensive training from the cradle. Never for a day during his lifetime had that training slackened.

There was really no magic about Doc's uncanny abilities. He had simply worked and studied harder than ever had a man before him.

Doc was developing the ray photos he had taken. The task quickly neared completion.

Suddenly Victor Vail, in the outer office, emitted a piercing howl.

A shot exploded deafeningly. Men cursed. Blows smashed.

Doc's bronze form flashed through the laboratory door. Across the library, he sped.

From the library door, a Tommy gun spewed lead almost into his face.