The Avenger 22 - The Black Death by Kenneth Robeson Read Free Book Online Page B

Street.”
    “I’ll go along,” said Miller. “I haven’t met Mr. Benson; I’ve just heard about him. I’d like very much to meet him.”
    “You will,” Nellie replied. “And right after that, you’ll probably find more things happening than you ever dreamed could happen around one person in the same short span of time.”
    They climbed into the car, down at the curb, and headed for Long Island.

    John Jay Hannon’s Long Island place was not very elaborate, but it was quite big. The grounds were acres in extent, and most of it had been left to grow up in trees and bushes and underbrush as it pleased. It made a pretty wild tangle. Around the lot went a high mesh fence with a barbed-wire strand at the top. Not too high to climb; but, undoubtedly, it was hooked up with an alarm somewhere so that if someone tried to climb it, the trial would be recorded in the house.
    The house, as far as could be seen from the barred gate, was in about the center of the estate, and there was another building almost as big. This had no windows; it was probably Hannon’s well-guarded laboratory and workshop.
    The Avenger stopped his car several hundred yards from the place, and he and Cole Wilson finished the trip to the fence through underbrush on the other side.
    At the fence, Benson said evenly, “I think it would be just as well if we got in with no one knowing about it.”
    Cole nodded and raised a foot. The Avenger’s steel-strong hands went under it.
    Cole leaped upward as hard as he could and was further catapulted by The Avenger’s great strength. There was an overhanging tree branch so high up that none but a tree surgeon’s special stepladder would have enabled an ordinary man to reach it. Cole just caught it with his fingertips, got a better grip and drew himself up. He dropped down on the other side of the fence and went to the gate.
    After a moment’s search, he saw the burglar-alarm connection at the gate. It went to a small house a dozen yards along the drive. No one was in the little building. Cole entered and cut off the alarm.
    He opened the gate for The Avenger, then connected the alarm after he’d shut the gate again. The two went toward the house, not along the drive but moving with effortless silence through the shrubbery. It would have taken a sharp eye to see them.
    They went around to the rear of the house. There, The Avenger took from a pocket a thing like a small watch. There was a tiny battery in it, and an indicator needle on a calibrated face. As he held this next to the lock on the door, the needle moved, indicating current flowing through an alarm wire fixed to the lock.
    They went around to the front again. Anyone concealed in shrubbery, watching the front door, would see The Avenger and Cole. But it was more likely that if there were a guard, he’d be inside the house.
    Anyhow, they had to take a chance with the front door, since the main objective was to avoid sounding an alarm.
    Dick held his clever little telltale to the front-door lock, and the needle did not move. He picked the lock; then he and Cole went into the house. They listened and heard nothing.
    “Looks like nobody’s home,” whispered Cole.
    The Avenger said nothing. He went to the kitchen.
    The kitchen was almost hotel-size. It was spotless and looked as if unused for all the eight weeks the owner, John Jay Hannon, had been away. But in the butler’s pantry, Dick saw a bread board, and on this were several crumbs.
    The crumbs were fresh.
    Someone had hidden out in this house very recently, and long enough to eat at least one meal. Whoever it was, had been very clever. He had gone over the place meticulously to hide trace of occupancy. But these few crumbs had been left unnoticed.
    The two went through the house but found no one. Cole, however, suddenly gave a low whistle while they were in the basement.
    There was a heavy-lidded incinerator opening down there. Cole had opened this. Now, he pointed, and The Avenger