opening drawers, although no possible person could be concealed therein.
The uncanny voice continued undisturbed.
“You have beheld the shed skin of our shadow, which we left behind as a warning to you all. Do not risk our petrifying gaze! This is a warning from beyond.”
“Blast it!” Ham complained. “The voice does not seem to be coming from any place that I can locate.”
Doc Savage gestured for silence, his head swiveling this way and that. His hearing had been trained to an extreme, and he was using his aural organs to hunt the sound to its origin.
But the voice did not come again. Satisfied that there was no other person or mechanical device capable of reproducing a human voice in the room, the bronze man went to the window, threw up the sash, and thrust his head out.
The fire escape latticework was unoccupied. There was no one standing below. The bronze man twisted, craning his head around, until he was looking up.
There did not seem to be any open windows above. Nevertheless, Doc Savage suddenly shifted until he was sitting on the windowsill, his upper body perched entirely outside the building.
The hotel was faced with brick, and Doc’s strong fingers found the crevices where the mortar held the bricks in place.
To the astonishment of no one except the desk clerk, Doc Savage was suddenly walking up the side of the building, using nothing more than the tips of his metallic fingers and the reinforced toes of his shoes to climb the building façade.
In this way, he soon reached the roof, climbed over the coping, and stood up.
Eerie golden eyes ranged the adjoining buildings, some of which were hotels and flophouses in the same class as this particular one. Doc seemed to be paying particular attention to the windows of adjoining structures, but after several minutes of intense study—which included removing a small, collapsable telescope from an inner pocket for closer scrutiny—seemed to arrive at no satisfactory conclusion.
It was easier, not to mention safer, to return to the second floor via the roof skylight hatch, and interior fire stairs, so Doc Savage did that.
Stepping back into the hotel room, the bronze giant said, “No source for the weird voice seems apparent.” There was no disappointment in his tone, for the bronze man usually maintained a stoic impassivity. “We will go now.”
Returning to the lobby, they thanked the desk clerk for his cooperation and reclaimed their roadster. It was soon darting through traffic.
Monk Mayfair and Ham Brooks appeared to have been struck dumb by the weird voice emanating from no apparent author.
Finally, Ham ventured, “That voice appeared womanly.”
To which Monk replied, “Sounded like a man to me.”
They began arguing the point, getting nowhere, but apparently enjoying themselves.
When the party reached the Hotel Paramount, they discovered several prowl cars standing in front of the building.
Police officers in blue also stood about, their expressions tight.
“Something’s sure up,” squeaked Monk.
Chapter V
SKULLBONE SURPRISE
WHEN DOC SAVAGE emerged from the roadster, the congregation of police officers took notice. They all but snapped to attention.
One, a sergeant, approached respectfully, saying, “Mr. Savage. Are you here to see about the dead one?”
“Which dead one?” returned Doc unemotionally.
“Why, that stiff that was found on the fifth floor. Haven’t you heard?”
“We are here on another matter,” said Doc circumspectly. “But it may be they are related. Please explain.”
“The hotel detective called it in,” offered the sergeant. “It seems a man registered in a room, and began behaving peculiarly.”
“How so?”
“Not long after he took his room, he went down to the barber shop here, and had his head shaved completely bald. Can you imagine that? He returned to his room, but forgot his hat. The barber in question and a bellhop carried it up to his room, but the hop came down alone, shaken up