The UndeceivedDonald Lurgent had misplaced his hat somewhere, and was hunting it, swearing profusely. His humor was vicious.
Behemoth, the giant who admitted he was ambitious, was wetting one of his cigars with his tongue, preparatory to lighting it. He seemed quite pleased with himself and, as usual, was asking questions with childlike curiosity.
The trap for Doc Savage was being set. Lurgent made a little speech to make sure that everyone understood the plan.
To this lecture the huge, cigar–smoking Behemoth listened intently. Then he asked in his strange whisper, “If this Doc Savage is such a holy terror, why don’t this Man on the Moon have us just clear out and leave Savage alone?”
“You’re getting my goat!” Lurgent came over and poked a stiff forefinger against Behemoth’s chest. “No
