I saw a chance to do myself some good, and said: "Perhaps I can offer a theory. Dido Alstrong is doing something reprehensible, those two fellows are involved with him, and since Dido Alstrong works for Mr.

Farrar, the men probably came here to seek news of Dido Alstrong.""Why," said Mr. Farrar gratefully, "that's logical."

"They ask about Dido Alstrong?" Monk Mayfair demanded.

"Well-yes. Yes, I believe his name was mentioned," Farrar stated.

"You forgot to say anything about that before."

Farrar shrugged. "Dido's name was all mixed up in the cussing they gave each other. It slipped my mind."

He was sharing my opinion of the Mayfair person, I noted.

"Well, we're getting nowhere fast," Mayfair said.

He strode to the table on which Dido Alstrong's packet lay.

"Let's open Santa Claus' pack and see what he brought us," he added.

DOC SAVAGE, stepping forward hastily, said, "Henry, will you come here. Tell me, is it the same package you and Monk got from the locker in Grand Central?"

"It appears so," I replied.

"Tied with the same cord and the same knots?"

"I think so."

"What about it, Monk?" Savage asked his uncouth aide.

"Same cord. Different knots," said Monk.

"I disagree," I said.

"Miss Farrar?" Savage inquired. "What do you say?"

"I was really too excited to notice it closely," she replied sensibly.

Savage still did not open the packet, but turned to Mr. Farrar and said speculatively, "This does seem to revolve around Dido Alstrong, but so far it's just mystery, nothing tangible."

"Why don't you open that thing?" Farrar demanded. "What are you staging, a suspense show?"

Those were my opinions also.

Savage remained calm. "About Dido Alstrong-is he a creative chemist, Farrar?"

"Creative? What do you mean?"

"Is it possible that he has made some sort of valuable discovery, and the trouble is revolving around that?

A fight for its possession, perhaps?"

Farrar shrugged. "Dido Alstrong is more mouth and glad-hand than ability, in my opinion. But he knows how to make other men work for him. That's why I gave him the executive job he holds."

"Then you can't answer my question?""I don't know that it has an answer."

Savage turned to Mayfair. "Open that thing," he said.

Since I had heard so much of this fellow Savage's profound reputation, I was naturally interested in observing his methods; my curiosity was intense to know how he had built himself up in such a degree.

Now I believed I had the answer-the fellow was a showman. Take this holding back the opening of Alstrong's packet-it was senseless, but it did create an air of tension, a sort of anxious stage on which Savage stamped and pranced, showing off. This was my feeling, for I had been loath all along to believe the fellow any sort of a superman; I was glad to see my opinion corroborated.

Mayfair threw open the wrappings. He lifted the lid of a cardboard box.

"h.e.l.l!" His small eyes protruded. "What the h.e.l.l!"

His sentiments were generally shared.

The box contained a monkey suit.

"The h.e.l.l!" the loutish Mayfair kept repeating, as if unable to believe this.

It was a brownish sort of a monkey suit. It would fit a man of average size. It seemed, and I am not an authority on masquerade costumes, not overly expensive, previously worn, and rather faded as if it had been dry-cleaned or washed a number of times.

"A masquerade outfit!" Lila exclaimed. "But-why, this is ridiculous! All this muss over a masquerade suit!"

Savage, an inscrutability on his features-the man could certainly hide his emotions-began removing the garment from the box. He inspected it closely. He replaced it, lifted the lid of the box, and noted the name of a costume rental concern printed thereon: REX COSTUME COMPANY. He replaced the lid on the box.

"Well, what is it?" asked Farrar sharply.

"A monkey suit," Savage said dryly.

Chapter VIII.

IT came as somewhat of a shock to find that Savage had a plan of action. It seemed to me that the bronze man should be completely stumped, and I suspected him of fourflushing when he said, "Well, perhaps we have something to work on."

Farrar, of the same idea, pointed at the box and demanded, "You mean that makes sense to you?"

Without answering, which was rather rude, Savage advised Lila, "I think you'd better remain here. There seems to be some danger involved, as witness what almost happened to Henry, and I wouldn't want you exposed to it."

She was disgustingly put out about this. I had hoped her fascination with Savage had subsided, but obviously it hadn't.

"Won't I see you again?" she asked anxiously.

"Of course," he replied gallantly.And the goon of a Mayfair said, "Baby, when they're as beautiful as you are, their trouble is seeing too much of us."

I was almost glad she wasn't going with us, because it would save her from being subject to such remarks from these fellows. And particularly, it would spare her Mayfair's smirking, strutting and eye-rolling.

Savage, Mayfair and myself rode down to the lobby in the elevator.

There Savage shocked me. He strode to the telephone operator, and asked, "You remember Henry calling and asking to be announced to Farrar."

She recalled.

"Who," Savage demanded, "answered Farrar's telephone?"

"Why, Mr. Farrar, of course," she replied.

"Thank you."

The meaning of this byplay was a little slow soaking into me. Then I saw it's preposterous significance-Savage was seeking to establish that Farrar hadn't been a prisoner of the fellows upstairs, because he had personally answered the phone.

"That's stupid!" I declared. "Farrar would have been forced to answer the phone by his captor."

"Naturally," Savage agreed in a rather odd fashion.

"Henry's getting to be quite a mastermind," Mayfair said.

"Phoo!" I said. "You fellows aren't accomplishing anything."

"Henry's brave as a hornet, too," Monk Mayfair added.

I wished to strike him, but he was not the sort one did that to.

On the street, Savage said, "Monk, I don't imagine Henry will feel too bereaved at not having your company. So will you do a locating job on polite-boy?"

"Sure, I'll find him," Mayfair replied. "I'll fetch him in. Take me about an hour, I guess."

The preposterous confidence of the chap!

THE REX COSTUME COMPANY was on the second floor of a building just off Sixth Avenue in the part of the city that would correspond to the cuff of a b.u.m's trousers-tired, sloppy, and not entirely honest. There was a wide stairway leading upward, but it didn't smell too well and there were bits of trash, cigarette stubs and gobs of chewing gum on the steps, if one cared to search for them.

A Mr. Ivan McGonigle introduced himself to us-or to Savage, for it was Savage who did the talking.

Mr. McGonigle confessed to being the proprietor of the REX COSTUME COMPANY.

"You rent masquerade costumes?" Savage inquired.

"That's right," said McGonigle. "We supply shows, parties, and theatrical troupes."Doc Savage placed Dido Alstrong's monkey-suit box on the counter.

"This one of your boxes?"

"That's right."

"You supply the monkey suit?"

"That's right. If there's a monkey suit in there, we-"

"Take a close look at the suit before you jump at conclusions," Savage suggested.

McGonigle did so. He was a red-faced man, brusque, with a certain shrewdness which had probably been taught to him by doing business in this district. The low-cla.s.s businessman type, I should say, and quite honest, but not a sort that I particularly fancied.

Presently McGonigle was positive. He pointed out a trademark, certain repairs to the suit, and the laundry marks which compared, as he showed us, identically with laundry marks on the other costumes in his stock.

"Ours," he said. "Now what about it?"

"You mean," said Savage, "that this is just an ordinary masquerade costume out of your stock?"

"That's right. We got about a half dozen of them. Not very good renters, incidentally. Got 'em about three years ago off a show that ran a couple of weeks and closed. You see, it was a show with political significance, or so they called it, with a scene showing how this collectivism was an animal thing that was going to return us to the status of tribes of baboons-"

"Do you," Savage interposed, "recall the fellow who rented this?"

"Why, think I do, vaguely. Talkative sort, kind of high-pressure, sort of a fat face-"

"That's Dido Alstrong," I exclaimed.

"Sure. That was his name. Alstrong. You'd think a fellow like that would be more prosperous," said the man who rented costumes.

"Prosperous?" inquired Savage.

"Sure. That's how I remember the man. We do a good business here, we get so many customers, how am I gonna remember one unless for a reason? This guy, he don't have the cash to put up a deposit. We demand a deposit, you know. He ain't got the deposit, he says, so he puts up a bit of personal property."

Savage considered this. "Thank you," he said finally.

"You wanna turn that ape suit back in now?" the man demanded.

"No, not just yet."

"Hokey-dokey."

Savage turned. "Come, Henry," he said. He wore an abstracted look and I reflected, with some pleasure, that he had come a cropper. He hadn't learned anything of value. Quite probably, he didn't know what to do next.Down in the street, Savage popped me into his car.

"Wait a minute for me, Henry," he said. "I believe I overlooked something I should have asked the costume shop proprietor."

He wheeled and re-entered the establishment. I endeavored to follow.

The presumptuous fellow had locked me in his remarkable armored car.

SAVAGE returned in not more than five minutes. His bronze face was inscrutable. "You locked me in the car!" I said angrily. "I resent such high-handed methods."