Quest of the Spider: A Doc Savage Adventure, page 1
part #68 of Doc Savage Series
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Title: Quest of the Spider
Date of first publication: 1933
Author: Lester Dent (as Kenneth Robeson) (1904-1959)
Date first posted: Sep. 25, 2020
Date last updated: Sep. 25, 2020
Faded Page eBook #20200971
This eBook was produced by: Al Haines, Cindy Beyer & the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net
DOC SAVAGE
Unique among men is Doc Savage, man of amazing abilities and of but one goal in life—to do good for everyone.
His bronzed features, his golden-flaked eyes, are symbols of power and mercy. There is strength unknown in the mighty sinews of his body and knowledge unfathomable in the brain of this remarkable man. Where others are experts in one line, he is a superman in many.
QUEST OF THE SPIDER
Doc Savage and his five companions
in another thrilling exploit
Books by Kenneth Robeson
THE MAN OF BRONZE DUST OF DEATH
THE THOUSAND-HEADED MAN RESURRECTION DAY
METEOR MENACE HEX
THE POLAR TREASURE RED SNOW
BRAND OF THE WEREWOLF WORLD’S FAIR GOBLIN
THE LOST OASIS THE DAGGER IN THE SKY
THE MONSTERS MERCHANTS OF DISASTER
THE LAND OF TERROR THE GOLD OGRE
THE MYSTIC MULLAH THE MAN WHO SHOOK THE EARTH
THE PHANTOM CITY THE SEA MAGICIAN
FEAR CAY THE MAN WHO SMILED NO MORE
QUEST OF QUI THE MIDAS MAN
LAND OF ALWAYS-NIGHT LAND OF LONG JUJU
FANTASTIC ISLAND THE FEATHERED OCTOPUS
MURDER MELODY THE SEA ANGEL
THE SPOOK LEGION DEVIL ON THE MOON
THE RED SKULL HAUNTED OCEAN
THE SARGASSO OGRE THE VANISHER
PIRATE OF THE PACIFIC THE MENTAL WIZARD
THE SECRET IN THE SKY HE COULD STOP THE WORLD
COLD DEATH THE GOLDEN PERIL
THE CZAR OF FEAR THE GIGGLING GHOSTS
FORTRESS OF SOLITUDE POISON ISLAND
THE GREEN EAGLE THE MUNITIONS MASTER
THE DEVIL’S PLAYGROUND THE YELLOW CLOUD
DEATH IN SILVER THE MAJII
THE MYSTERY UNDER THE SEA THE LIVING FIRE MENACE
THE DEADLY DWARF THE PIRATE’S GHOST
THE OTHER WORLD THE SUBMARINE MYSTERY
THE FLAMING FALCONS THE MOTION MENACE
THE ANNIHILIST THE GREEN DEATH
THE SQUEAKING GOBLINS MAD MESA
MAD EYES THE FRECKLED SHARK
THE TERROR IN THE NAVY QUEST OF THE SPIDER
QUEST
OF THE
SPIDER
A DOC SAVAGE ADVENTURE
BY KENNETH ROBESON
QUEST OF THE SPIDER
Originally published in doc savage Magazine May 1933
Copyright © 1933, 1961 by Street & Smith Publications, Inc.
CONTENTS
Chapter Page
I THE PLOTTERS STRIKE 1
II CULT OF THE MOCCASIN 9
III DEATH IN THE AIR 19
IV TWO DEAD MEN 27
V THE BRONZE RESCUER 37
VI DEATH-END TRAIL 45
VII KILLERS AT WORK 55
VIII DOC PLANS 63
IX THE SWAMP ENCOUNTER 72
X VOODOO’S DOMAIN 81
XI THE WELL-KNOWN EGG 90
XII HUMAN SACRIFICE 101
XIII A KIDNAPING GONE WRONG 111
XIV THE BIG SURPRISE 121
XV THE BUZZING DEATH 130
XVI THE PAY-OFF 140
XVII “THE GRAY SPIDER IS——” 144
Quest of the Spider
Chapter I
THE PLOTTERS STRIKE
A comet hurtled through the cloudy summer sky. It was a man-made comet of toughened steel and alloy—the New Orleans-New York passenger plane. A hoarse, unending snarl of power poured from the exhaust stacks of the three-speed cowled motors.
About a dozen people lounged in the cabin. Some toyed with magazines. Others played bridge. They could not have been more at ease under a reading lamp at home.
Two of the passengers were not so calm, however. Their faces were tense. Their eyes held fear.
It was plain they were not scared merely because they were riding in a plane. Their gaze fanned the surrounding clouds time after time. It was as if they momentarily expected some hideous fate to pounce from the dingy heavens.
“Take it easy, Edna,” murmured one of the two. “I think we are safe here.”
The speaker was a man. He bulked big in the wicker plane seat. His rugged hands were drawn into knobbed fists. His blond, coarse hair was peppered with gray at the temples. It had been tousled by nervous stroking of the man’s blunt fingers. He seemed very worried.
The man looked like a picture an imaginative artist might paint of that two-fisted Norseman, Eric the Red.
His name actually was Eric. He was “Big Eric” Danielsen, president of Danielsen & Haas, the largest lumber company in the southern United States. Every man in the lumber business had heard of Big Eric, who had worked up from lowly shed stacker in a sawmill to power and millions.
“Big Eric Danielsen—now there’s a white guy!” they’d generally say. “Hasn’t got an enemy in the world!”
They would have changed their minds, could they have seen Big Eric’s drawn face and tense muscles as he sat in the speeding plane. He was like a man apprehensive of being stricken by a fiendish enemy at any instant.
“Try to get some sleep, dad,” suggested the young woman Big Eric had addressed as Edna. “You sat up all night with an automatic pistol, and don’t try to say you didn’t! I awakened during the night and saw you!”
The resemblance between Edna and her father was strong. She had his firm features, blond hair, and blue eyes. She was nearly as tall as Big Eric. And she was a ravishing beauty.
A famous motion-picture concern had once offered Edna Danielsen a young fortune if she would enter the talkies. The company had been flabbergasted when the entrancing young woman pointed out that her salary as an executive vice president of her father’s lumber corporation exceeded the film offer. It was an event when such beauty and brains came together.
The fact that the men passengers on the plane—those who didn’t have their wives along—had selected seats where they could steal a covert look at Edna now and then, showed what a pippin she was.
One man passenger alone had not done that. Strangely enough, this fellow was the cake-eater type who usually ogle pretty girls in an ill-mannered fashion. His hair was slicked down until the top of his head resembled the greased back of a black turtle. He had an evil face.
A moment before, this unsavory fellow had visited the washroom in the rear of the plane. In passing Big Eric and Edna, the man had carefully kept his face turned away.
“There’s something queer about the way that man acts!” muttered Big Eric.
“I was just thinking the same thing, dad,” replied the gorgeous Edna.
The plane cabin was partially sound-proofed. Up forward in the pilot’s compartment, they could hear the assistant pilot talking into the radio-telephone instrument, which was in communication with the nearest plane dispatcher of the air line. The man was giving the condition of the air they were passing through, and getting information on visibility ahead, as reported by other planes.
“I’m gonna keep an eye on that slick-haired gigolo!” growled Big Eric, still watching the evil-faced man, who sat forward. The massive lumber king removed a large army automatic from a hip pocket. He put it in a coat pocket, where it could be gotten at more swiftly.
“Don’t do anything reckless, dad!” warned Edna.
Big Eric tried to chuckle. He was under such a strain that the sound he produced was hardly more than a hollow rattle.
“I’m not so jumpy that I’ll start shooting everybody that looks suspicious, just on the chance that I’ll get the Gray Spider, or one of his men.”
At mention of the Gray Spider, dread flashed to Edna Danielsen’s pretty face. It was obvious the name had a terrible significance.
“Do you—think our trip to New York will really be of any help?” she asked hesitatingly.
Big Eric clenched his jaw and said firmly: “I’m sure of it!”
“I have never met the man we are going to see,” murmured Edna.
“Brigadier General Theodore Marley Brooks!” Big Eric’s rugged face lost some of its worry. He spoke reminiscently. “I met him when I was working my way through Harvard. We were pals. I was a plodder. Ham was a brilliant man, one of the quickest thinkers I ever knew. But we got along swell.”
“Ham—is that his nickname?”
“Sure. Ham got it in the Big War. He was always a lover of adventure. Even back in college days, he carried an innocent-looking black cane that was in reality a sword cane. It got him out of many a tight spot. He was always tumbling into trouble. But he still managed to become the greatest lawyer Harvard ever turned out.
“In the World War, he advanced to a brigadier generalship. His quick thinking saved the lives of thousands of our soldiers.”
Edna Danielsen seemed doubtful. “But can even a great lawyer and quick thinker help us? The Gray Spider must have hundreds, thousands, of men in his evil organization. A lawyer can’t whip an army! Not even a superman could!”
Big Eric’s firm lips arched in a tight smile. “That is exactly why I’m going to see Ham Brooks. Ham knows a person who is just what we need—a superman!”
“I don’t understand!” Edna was puzzled.
“Doc Savage!” Something like awe was in Big Eric’s voice as he spoke that name.
He mentioned Doc Savage in the same manner an Italian peasant would speak of Mussolini, or a deeply religious Mohammedan would refer to Allah, or a Christian minister to his Deity. It was obvious from Big Eric’s tone that he considered Doc Savage nothing less than a supreme being.
“Ham knows Doc Savage!” he said proudly. “We may be able to get Doc Savage to help us against the Gray Spider!”
Big Eric spoke as if he believed that would solve everything.
Pretty Edna Danielsen puckered her charming forehead in an amazed fashion. “You speak of this Doc Savage as if he was just about the most remarkable person in the world,” she murmured; “yet, I’ve never even heard of him.”
“You never heard of Clark Savage, Jr.?”
“Oh!” gasped Edna. “Is that your Doc Savage? Why, he’s the wizard who perfected that new species of fast-growing tree. Why, with that rapid growth, the forests of this world will never be exhausted! But what good will he do us? We don’t need forests!”
“No,” grinned Big Eric. “But this Doc Savage is just as great in other things. Medicine, geology, engineering—all these fields are his familiar territory—”
“And still,” interrupted Edna, her mind centered upon their immediate troubles, “that doesn’t help us out in the least! Neither your Ham nor your Doc Savage can cope with the Gray Spider!”
His daughter’s exasperation now mildly amused Big Eric. He went on, then, explaining his purpose in seeking out Doc Savage in their trouble.
“Perhaps neither Ham nor Doc could help us against the Gray Spider, but Doc and Ham and the rest of their pals can help us, I’m sure!”
“You see, it’s not Doc alone, though Doc is the mainspring and regulator of the group. There are five of them, besides Doc. They’re all men who are experts in their respective lines, and all of them owe so much to Doc—even their lives—that they will do anything for him. Not only that, but his knowledge is so great that he is the one person to whom all must bow.
“And I know they’ll help us, because that’s their work; their lives are devoted to the task of smashing those who plot evil, of helping those who need help. They want excitement; they yearn for adventure; they live on thrills! They’re real men—and it will take real men to get the Gray Spider!”
Father and daughter now fell silent. Discussing the power and mastery of the mighty Doc Savage had renewed the courage of both. They stared steadily beyond the nose of the speeding plane. In that direction lay the city of New York.
There in the metropolis, they hoped to find their salvation—Doc Savage.
The assistant pilot was speaking again into the radio telephone transmitter. “All going O.K.,” he intoned calmly. “Looks like a perfect trip.”
He was wrong.
There came a sudden, terrific explosion. It was within the washroom at the rear of the plane. The washroom door popped off its hinges. It flew the length of the cabin. A great tongue of scorching flame seemed to pursue it.
Sheets of the thin metal skin of the plane were ripped from the rear of the fuselage by the blast. Windows burst outward. Acrid smoke boiled in the cabin.
Miraculously, no one aboard the plane was killed, but the ship began to flounder crazily. The tail structure had been nearly torn off. Controls were severed. The craft was helpless as a bird with a broken back.
The pilot and his assistant seemed stunned with surprise. There had been no fuel tank in the rear of the plane. No part of the regular equipment could possibly have caused the explosion.
“Dad!” exclaimed Edna Danielsen. “That slick-haired man went into the washroom a few minutes ago! Remember?”
“Sure, I remember!” rumbled Big Eric. “The dirty rat! He lit the time fuse of a bomb and left it in there, if my guess is right!”
The plane careened more crazily. The mangled air liner was going to crash! The altimeter in the pilot’s compartment read ten thousand feet. It was indeed fortunate the plane had been flying so high. There would be precious minutes in which to escape.
This air line was one which equipped their planes with a parachute for each passenger! The packs and the quick-attaching harness were in baskets above the seats. One ’chute to each passenger, but no spares!
The pilot and his assistant still seemed paralyzed with surprise.
Big Eric showed the stuff that had taken him from a lowly sawmill worker to the heights. He assumed charge.
“Put on your parachutes!” he boomed commandingly. “You will find them in the baskets over your seats! Then jump! One at a time! Quickly!”
A fat lady promptly screamed.
“Be calm!” urged Big Eric. “There’s nothing to be scared of!”
But pandemonium seized the dazed passengers. Parachute jumping might hold no terrors for Big Eric and his blond, beautiful daughter, who stood so staunchly at his back. But to the others it smacked of the next thing to suicide. Another woman screeched. Men bellowed senseless words at each other in their fear.
Big Eric caught sight of the slick-haired man. The evil-faced fellow had been crouching from view behind a seat. But now the plane door opened.
The man leaped through into space. He had donned a parachute before the explosion!
This proved to Big Eric that the man had set the bomb. The fellow was one of the Gray Spider’s minions!
Big Eric stood in the center of the plane cabin, and used his vast voice and powerful arms to quell the excitement. He knew how to handle panic-stricken crowds. He had learned that trick in many a sawmill disaster.
“Cut out the fool screeching and jump!” he roared. “Pull the ripcord ring of your parachute when you’re clear of the plane!”
Big Eric’s brain was racing. Why had the Gray Spider’s man set the bomb—if the fellow was really one of the sinister gang? How could it be an attempt on the life of Big Eric and his daughter? The other passengers seemed in as much danger.
The torn plane was falling faster. Air was roaring through the rent portion of the fuselage. The earth was swelling upward like the green and bloated paunch of a vast monster.
In faltering succession, the passengers pitched through the plane door. The faces of some held white terror as they jumped. A few were grimly composed. Others sobbed belated prayers.
The pilot and his assistant had awakened to their sense of responsibility. They were left alone with Big Eric and his daughter.
“Jump!” the pilot shouted. “We shall go last!”
Big Eric understood. No doubt the pilot and his assistant felt bad because they had not been first to rise to the emergency and take charge of the passengers. They would feel better were they the last to quit the fast-falling plane.
Swiftly, Big Eric swung for the door. Other passengers were safe.
With a lunge, his daughter got in his path. Her horrified look brought the big lumberman up short.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded.
“If this is an attempt on our life—our parachutes must have been tampered with!” gasped the girl.
A sharp rumble came out of Big Eric’s chest. Wrenching his ’chute pack around, he tore open the brown canvas covering. He stared at the silk folds of the ’chute itself.
“Look!” he bellowed.
A powerful acid had been poured into the parachute pack. The stuff had destroyed the strength of the silk.
