The Avenger 31 - The Cartoon Crimes by Kenneth Robeson Read Free Book Online Page A

in Port Bascom. Can’t be more than a ten-or-fifteen-minute drive, and I figure—”
    “You stay on deck here,” instructed Benson. “We’ll check on the Yellow Rose.”
    Smitty made a disappointed sound and pawed at the ground with his right foot. “Oaky doaks,” he said. “Let me know soon as you find out what’s happening to the guy.”
    Putting the auto into reverse, Cole asked, “How’s little Nell?”
    “She’s okay,” said Smitty. “Right now, though, I’m worried about—”
    “Give her my best.” Cole shot the car back down the drive.

CHAPTER XI

Smitty Sees One
    Wayne Harmon yawned. “Guess I’ll head for my own spread,” he said to the living room in general. He turned his freckled head toward Gil. “You sure you don’t want me to hang around?”
    Jeanne spoke first. “Gil’s going to spend the night resting, not drawing.”
    Gil shrugged as best he could while hunkered down in a soft, deep armchair. “Yeah, I guess I ought to take it easy, Wayne. Pop over tomorrow, and we’ll get going on the stuff.”
    “Well, I’ve got a couple covers to work on over to home.” He ambled to the doorway. “Nice meeting all you folks.”
    Smitty grunted at the departing artist. He scowled out at the phone in the hall, rubbed at his belt buckle, checked the mantle clock once more. “Almost midnight,” he observed.
    Nellie leaned toward him from her perch on the arm of the sofa. “Relax, old sport.”
    “First Mac, now the rest of—”
    “If anybody can handle himself, it’s Fergus.”
    “Yeah, but—”
    “Your boss won’t mind if we put off our talk until morning?” Gil stretched up out of his chair. “I think I’ll follow Jeanne’s advice and hit the hay.”
    His red-haired wife stood up and took his arm. “You know where everything is, Nellie. Good night, Mr. Smith.”
    “Huh? Oh, yeah, good night.”
    When they were alone in the big room, Nellie said, “Is this my old chum, calm and stoical Smitty?”
    The giant said, “You’re starting to sound like Cole, always wisecracking.”
    “Nerts.” Nellie made a brief sour face at him. “I’ve been wisecracking since I was a little bitty thing with long golden curls, Smitty. The dubious influence of Mr. Cole Wilson has nothing to do with it.”
    “You sure like the guy, though.”
    “I like you all equally well,” the little blonde said. “When you’re part of a team, you can’t afford to—”
    “Okay, excuse it.” The big man rubbed a foot over the rug and watched it. “There must be something about this place. Been here a few hours and I feel jumpy.”
    Hopping to the floor, Nellie suggested, “You ought to turn in yourself. You know where your guest room is, don’t you?”
    “Yeah, but I’m going to stay up till I hear from Mac and the gang.”
    “Okay, Smitty. Come fetch me if I’m needed. Night.”
    “Sure. Good night, Nellie.”
    Smitty remained seated tensely in his chair. “Now, if I was a smooth guy like Cole,” he told himself after a moment, “I wouldn’t have talked so clumsy to her. I’d have told her what I . . . Naw, I’m calm and stoic Smitty. So let’s skip it.”

    A small sound awakened him.
    Smitty blinked and sat up in his chair. “Geeze, after one A.M. I must have snoozed.” He got up, yawning prodigiously. He stood, slightly hunched, and listened.
    Silence now. The whole house filled with silence, the darkness outside silent.
    Frowning, the giant moved to the doorway. “What did I hear that woke me up?” he asked himself. “Not a great big sound . . . a door. Yeah a door closing someplace around the back of this joint.”
    Easing a flashlight out of his pocket, Smitty hurried down the dark hallway to the rear of the house. The back door opened off the huge kitchen. Smitty clicked on his flash and scanned the room. Nothing, nobody.
    “Maybe nobody came in, maybe somebody went out.”
    He turned the flash off and let himself silently out of the house.
    The sound of the black surf