"Let's not argue about it," Bill Williams muttered. "But we're free of that Gilmore, and I don't see the sense of trying to find him again. That guy is trouble." "He's trouble, all right," agreed Linningen.

"A kind of trouble I don't understand," said Williams.

"You're sure right about that," Linningen told him emphatically. "But I don't think we should drop it now. I think we should satisfy our curiosity"

"Satisfy your curiosity?" Williams asked bitterly. "Or keep straight with Doc Savage?"

"A little of both," Linningen replied.

Doc Savage smiled slightly. Monk Mayfair complained, "That doesn't give us much, except the reason they tagged along so readily when you asked them to. I wish they'd talk more. They must be scared."

Doc locked the brakes, skidded to a stop at a fork in the road, and asked, "Which road do we take here, Wail?"

Wail seemed confused. "Let me step out a moment and have a look," he said.

Ham Brooks burst out impatiently, "Dammit, my man, there are the road signs as clear as the nose on your face. Route F or G? Which one?"

"The road signs don't mean much to me," Wail mumbled.

"Why not?" Ham barked.

"The roads weren't here when I pa.s.sed this way last!" Wail retorted, with his first show of temper.

"Things have changed. You've no idea what a handicap that is when I try to find my way around!"

Ham's jaw dropped. Wail jumped out of the car, and Ham looked at Doc and Monk and made a twirling motion with a forefinger beside his forehead. "Our happy-faced guide is as full of nuts as a squirrel's dream," Ham said. "Doc, how long ago would you say these highways were built?"

"Some time hack," Doc said. He was thoughtful. "We might ask at the next service station."

Wail sprang atop a large boulder, and peered in the direction of some distant mountain peaks. He seemed to be making a sincere effort to get his bearings. In a moment, he returned, pointed to the right-hand turn, and said, "That one."

Two miles farther on, an elderly farmer riding a cart came into view, and Doc brought the car to a stop.

"h.e.l.lo, there," he called to the farmer. "Have you lived in this neighborhood long?"

"All my life," the farmer replied.

Doc nodded. "Fine. You're just the man to give us the answer to something we were wondering about.

How long ago was this road, and the one back a couple of miles at the fork built? Could you give us an idea?"

The farmer asked, "You mean how long ago were they paved?"

"The roads were here before they were paved?"

"Oh, sure.

"In the same spot?" "That's right. The State just graded 'em and put on the blacktopping."

"When was that?"

"Right close to thirty years ago," said the farmer.

"But the roads were here prior to that time?"

"Oh, sure.

"How much before that, would you say?"

"Well more'n a hundred years, I could say fur sure," the farmer replied. 'About half a mile down the road, there's a stone bridge with the date cut in it, 1839. The road was probably here before that." Doc thanked the farmer, and put the car in motion. Monk and Ham exchanged puzzled glances, and Monk gave Wail a poke in the ribs. "The road wasn't here when you pa.s.sed last, but it was here more than a hundred years ago," he said.

Wail winced. "I could have told you that."

"My G.o.d! You're not sticking to that story?" Monk demanded.

"I certainly am!" Wail snapped.

"You think I'll swallow that?"

"I wish," said Wail violently, "that you would swallow your own head. As for believing me, I am accustomed to not being believed."

"I can sure see where you would be," Monk told him. "You're full of nice believable stories."

Doc Savage whipped the car over a hilltop, pointed and demanded, "Is that the place, Wail?"

Wail smirked. "It is. Didn't think I would find it, did you? Well, I can find anything, give me time."

In a moment the car carrying Linningen and Williams came to a stop alongside. Doc got out and walked to their car. "Wail says the place yonder is where Gilmore's sister lives," he told them.

"It looks like a fancy joint," Williams said. "Mountain lodge, or something."

"It seems impressive," Linningen appended. "Do we all descend at once? The whole army of us?"

Doc looked at the psychiatrist sharply. "Is there a reason why we shouldn't arrive as a party?"

"It occurs to me that such a large number of us might make the young lady nervous," Linningen said.

"Do you have a reason for not wanting Gilmore's sister to see you?" Doc inquired.

"Of course not!" Linningen replied hurriedly.

"The young lady might be attractive and worth meeting," Doc suggested dryly.

"I don't know she is young!" Linningen snapped.

"You said she was, just now "Well, it was just a thoughtless remark!" Linningen barked. "Look here, Savage, what do you mean by this line of questioning? I believe I resent it!"

Doc said, "Let's pay the lady a visit and see how near you came to the truth without thinking."

The two cars climbed a hill. The lodge, an attractive structure made of logs, stood against a backdrop of low mountains which bore a covering of snow. There was frost on the gravel that crunched under the tires as they came to a stop.

"I wonder if Gilmore is here," Monk murmured.

"We should know before long." Doc strode to the door, glanced at two pairs of skis which were propped against the lodge wall, then knocked. The skis were well waxed and the snow caught in the harness looked fresh.

The lodge door was opened by an elderly man in a checked wool shirt and corduroy trousers, plainly the servant.

"We'd like to see Mr. Gilmore Sullivan," Doc said.

"Gilmore hasn't been here for weeks," the servant replied promptly.

"In that case, we'd like to see Miss Leona Sullivan, Gilmore's sister," Doc told him.

"Who shall I say is calling?"

"Tell her Clark Savage, Jr., and party"

The servant withdrew, closing the door in Doc's face. Hearing a commotion behind him, Doc wheeled.

He saw Monk in the act of making a flying tackle at Mr. Wail, who had started a hasty departure. He brought Wail down, and said, "Oh, no you don't! Try to skip out, will you?"

"You'll regret this!" Wail declared bitterly.

Now the door was opened by a redheaded girl wearing skiing trousers and a wool sweater. Her friendly face was also wearing, Doc thought, an expression that came from making a great effort to repress fear.

"I'm Leona Sullivan," she said.

Doc Savage made the introductions. "This is Dr. Linningen, whose yacht rescued your brother from the desolate rock where he was marooned. And my two a.s.sociates, Monk Mayfair and Ham Brooks - "

He paused, trying to decide what was causing Miss Sullivan to become pale.

"And these gentlemen," Doc added, "are Mr. Williams, a guest on the yacht, and Mr. Wail, whom I believe you are supposed to know"

She didn't speak, and Doc noted that neither Wail nor Williams had faced the young woman. They were turned in another direction.

"Mr. Wail and Mr. Williams," Doc said deliberately. "This is Miss Sullivan."

Wail and Williams turned reluctantly.

Miss Sullivan's breath in her throat made a low sound like paper tearing, and she swayed and would have fallen had not Ham, moving with alacrity caught her. She had fainted. Throwing the door open, Doc gestured for Ham to carry Miss Sullivan's limp figure inside. Monk had jumped around to a spot where he could head off any contemplated retreat by Bill Williams and Wail.

Scowling at Wail, Monk said, "I would say she knew you, all right."

Williams glared at Wail. "I don't blame her much for her reaction," he told Wail. "You give me the creeps, too." Wail smiled. "She was looking at you when she fainted." Williams lunged forward, his fist flew out.

There was a smacking report as the fist landed, not against Wail's cherubic face, but in the palm of Doc Savage's outflung hand. Doc jerked, and Williams spun into the lodge, stumbled, and landed in a chair.

He started to get up, hands fisted, but thought better of it. He shouted, "By G.o.d, you can't manhandle me and get away with it!" Linningen, gazing at Williams in puzzled alarm, said, "Take it easy, Bill. What has got into you?"

"I don't come up here to be pushed around!" Williams snapped. "Why did you come?" Monk asked pointedly.

"d.a.m.ned if I know. Because I didn't have any better sense, I guess," growled Williams.

The old manservant in the checkered shirt came in, gazed at them with disapproval, and did not seem rea.s.sured by the information that Miss Sullivan had merely fainted. He ran away shouting for his wife.

"Mary! Mary, come quick, something's happened to Miss Leona!" His wife was a bustling plump lady several years his junior, and she didn't seem alarmed. "Miss Leona hasn't been feeling well lately," she said. "I'll get some brandy."

Doc asked, "Has Miss Sullivan been ill?"

"Just nervous," the woman explained. "Just nervous and jumpy. Will you carry her into one of the bedrooms? I'll take care of her."

When they were alone, Linningen took out a handkerchief and mopped his forehead. "What do you make of this, Savage? Somehow, I have a feeling there is something intensely wrong here."

"If you ask me, the girl had a reason for fainting," Monk said. He scowled at Ham Brooks. "Depend on old Johnny-come-legal to be ready to catch her, though."

"It was nice work," Ham told him. "Too bad you didn't think of it first."

That being exactly the thought in Monk's mind, he merely scowled.

"I think they all seem frightened," Linningen observed. "The two servants as well."

"You don't look as if you were at a picnic yourself," Ham Brooks observed.

"Nevertheless, I think I'm still competent to recognize fear when I see it!" Linningen snapped.

Fifteen minutes later, the woman appeared and announced, "Miss Sullivan will see you, Mr. Savage."

Leona Sullivan was resting in a comfortable chair, but the hands in which she held a cup of coffee, probably laced with brandy, were not too steady. She arose, extended her hand, saying, "I'm afraid I got off to a shocking start as a hostess. I'm sorry. I'm particularly sorry to extend such a distressing reception to Mr. Linningen and Mr. Williams, the men who rescued my brother."

"You knew Gilmore had been found?" Doc asked.

Without looking directly at Doc, she said, "I remember your saying so. That was what you did say,wasn't it?"

"Perhaps we should have broken the news more gradually," Doc said.

"No. It was very good news. One doesn't mind how good news comes."

"You didn't seem surprised."

"Didn't I?"

"No. You appeared frightened."

"Why shouldn't I?" she said quickly She resumed her chair, and picked up the cup and saucer. When her shaking hand caused the cup to tinkle on the saucer, she put them down again. "I've been frightened for weeks," she added.

"Of what?"

She shuddered. "Of something terrible that might have happened to Gilmore. You have no idea how disturbing it is, just waiting, after something strange has happened to your brother."