A giant man of bronze stood there!

FOR once, the yellow faces of the Mongols were not inscrutable. They goggled like small boys seeing their first lion.

"Fools!" ripped their leader. "Kill this bronze devil!"

A man darted a hand to his sleeve and forked out a kris with a foot-long serpentine blade. He drew back his arm and flung the knife.

What happened next was almost black magic. The kris was suddenly protruding from the chest of the man who had thrown it! It was as though he had stabbed himself.

Not one present could believe the mighty bronze man had plucked the flashing blade out of mid-air and returned it so accurately and with such blinding speed. No one, except Renny, who had seen Doc perform such amazing feats before!

Even while the dead man sloped backward to the floor like a falling tree, Doc seized another Mongol. The fellow seemed to become light as a rag doll, and as helpless. His clubbed body bowled over a fifth Oriental.

Only three were now left. One of these drew a revolver, flung it up, fired rapidly. But he did nothing, except drive bullets into the body of his fellow as it came hurtling toward him. The next instant, he was smashed down, to lose his senses when his head smacked the wall.

The surviving pair spun and fled with grotesque leaps. They squawked in terror at each jump.

They dived through a door, but retained presence of mind enough to slam and lock the panel.

Doc struck it, found it was of armor plate, and did not waste more time.

Whirling back, he scooped up a knife and cut through the bonds of the captives.

Renny was hardly on his feet before Doc had entered the chimney.

The hundred feet to the top, Doc climbed in almost no time. He ran across the roof.

Down in the street, the Orientals were piling into a sedan. The machine hooted up the thoroughfare, skidded around a corner, and was gone.

Doc knew any attempt to follow would be fruitless. He descended the chimney, joining the others.

"How'd you find us?" Renny wanted to know.

"Through the police," Doc explained. "They had been telephoning me news of every suspicious incident, however unimportant, in this part of town. I got word of the reported screams and shots in the radio store, and came to investigate. I heard the two truck drivers receive orders to take their prisoner to their boss. It was a simple matter to follow them' here."

Doc now shook hands with Juan Mindoro.

DOC SAVAGE had once visited a number of islands in the Pacific, studying tropical fevers and their cures. It was on this trip that he had first met Juan Mindoro. The meeting had come about through a medical clinic which Mindoro maintained. Mindoro was extremely wealthy, expended tremendous sums on projects for the general benefit of humanity. The medical clinic, treating poor people without charge, was only one of the many philanthropies he indulged in.

Doc had been impressed with the high character of Juan Mindoro. So much so, indeed, that he had offered his services to Mindoro, should they ever be needed.

"It is hopeless for me to try to express my thanks to you with mere words," Juan Mindoro said, his orator's voice husky with emotion. "They would surely have killed me, those Mongol fiends."

Doc now turned to Scott S. Osborn. He was surprised when Osborn shrank away as if expecting a blow.

"You can't do anything to me!" Osborn shrieked hysterically. "I've got money! I'll fight you through every court in the land!"

Puzzled, Doc turned to Juan Mindoro. "What does he mean?"

Mindoro gave Osborn a scowl of scathing contempt.

"I came to this man, thinking he was my friend," he said. "He offered to hide me, and took me to his home. Then he went to my enemies. They paid him money to tell them where I was."

"But they captured him at the same time they took you," Doc pointed out. "And a moment ago, they were going to kill him."

Juan Mindoro's laugh was a dry rattle. "They doublecrossed him. He was a fool. He thought they could be trusted."

Osborn wiped his bubbly eyes. His weak mouth made a trembling sneer.

"You can't do anything to me for selling you out!" he said shrilly. "My money will see to that! I've still got the dough they paid me for telling where you were, Mindoro! Fifty thousand dollars! I'll spend every cent of it to fight you in court!"

Mindoro suddenly picked up a gun one of the Mongols had dropped. He fingered it slowly, gazing all the while at Osborn.

"I wish I were less of a civilized man!" be said coldly. "I would shoot this dog!"

Doc reached up and got the gun. Mindoro gave it up readily.

"Osborn has been punished," Doc said grimly. "He became involved with the Mongols through his own greed. They murdered his brother last night. Had he not gone to them, that would never have happened."

Osborn's fat little face went starkly white. "What's this — this about my brother?"

"He was murdered last night."

This was obviously Osborn's first knowledge of his brother's slaughter. It hit him hard. He turned whiter and whiter until his repulsive little head became like a thing of bleached marble. He seemed hardly to breathe. Tears oozed from his small eyes, chased each other down his puffy cheeks, and wetted his shirt front and necktie.

"My own brother — I just the same as murdered him!" he choked in a voice so low the others hardly heard.

Ignoring him, Doc indicated the doorway into the chimney. "I suggest we get out of here."

They turned toward the chimney. Then Renny yelped excitedly and sprang for Osborn.

He was too late. Osborn, crazed by the grief of his brother's death, crumpled to the floor, his body falling upon the upturned blade held by one of the dead Mongols.

THE body of the fat little man executed a few spasmodic jerks before it became a spongy pile upon the floor.

Mindoro, gazing at the body religiously, said in solemn tones: "May I be forgiven for speaking to him so harshly. I did not know of his brother's murder."

"He had it coming!" grunted Renny, who was about as hard boiled as they came.

Doc Savage made no comment.

They climbed the chimney, crossed the roof tops, and descended to the street by the same route Renny had been carried into this room.

Doc telephoned the police a brief report of what had happened. He ended with the request: "Keep my connection with the affair secret from the newspapers."

"Of course, Mr. Savage!" said the police captain who was receiving the news. "But can you give us a description of the leader of this herd of Mongols and half-castes?"

Doc turned to Juan Mindoro. "Who is behind this mess?"

"A man known as Tom Too," replied Mindoro.

"Can you describe him?"

Mindoro shook his bead. "I have never seen the man. He did not show himself to me, even when I was held prisoner."

"No description," Doc told the police official.

They rode uptown in a taxi. Doc remained outside on the running board for the first few blocks. Then, as the machine slowed for a traffic light, he dropped off.

Even as Renny and Mindoro started to bark excited questions, the giant bronze man vanished — lost himself in the crowd that swarmed the walks of Broadway.

Mindoro wiped his high forehead in some bewilderment.

"A remarkable man," he muttered.

Renny grinned. "That ain't saying the half of it!"

A couple of blocks farther on, Renny sobered abruptly.

"Holy cow!" he ejaculated. "I forgot to tell Doc something! And I dang well know it's important!"

"What!"

"When the Mongols first got me, they were going to keep me alive as a hostage to make Doc behave. Then they suddenly decided to kill me, remarking that something had occurred which made it no longer necessary to keep me alive. I thought at the time that maybe they had gotten Doc. But that couldn't have been it."