"Doc Savage Adventure 1935-12 The Fantastic Island" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doc Savage Collection)

"Crew's in the pits, diggin'," the man answered in a kind of wrenching sob.

"Where's Johnny? Is he alive?" Ham hung on the answer fearfully.

"Alive, but he won't be long."

"Where is he?"

"A big guy with a black beard took him away. I don't know where. I only know they're gonna kill Johnny. They're gonna kill all of us!" The man's voice rose to hysterical rasp.

"Don't talk so loud," Ham cautioned, fiercely. "What have we got into here? Tell me what you know. Quick! While we've got the chance."

"I can't tell you -- but I can -- " Then the man's voice rose in a choking shriek, out of all control now. It was an insane shriek.

Plainly, the fellow had broken under the tortures he had endured.


WHATEVER it was he meant to tell, or not to tell, Ham, remained forever untold. The overseer rushed forward, mouthing unintelligible curses. His arm reared up, and down. The leaded whip handle struck with gruesome thump against the crazed man's head. It was a blow heavy enough to have dropped anything alive. But the man in the pit was not exactly alive now. He was a raving madman, mercifully removed from all consciousness of pain. His whitish eyes rolled madly. Crimson foam bubbled from his lips.

The leaded whip handle descended again. This time the man slumped, a slack weight in the pit. He was dead before his body hit the bottom.

The overseer -- he was some unidentifiable Asiatic type -- bawled orders in harsh gibberish. Two guards shoved forward. One was a giant brown-skinned man; the other a paunchy Caucasian of indeterminate race. The brown man bent and commenced ripping the thongs from Ham's hands and feet. The other guard jumped heavily down, unlocked the iron cuff from the dead man's leg, and heaved the limp body out of the pit.

The guard on top grunted, and pushed Ham roughly over the edge. Ham fell sprawling. The guard in the pit was ready for him. He jangled the chain against the stake, grabbed Ham by the foot and slapped on the iron cuff, warm from the dead man's leg.

He picked up the dead man's shovel, thrust it into Ham's hands. The overseer above cracked down with the whip. A thick welt bloomed on Ham's cheek. He started digging.

Overseers herded Monk a short distance down the line of horror holes, and put him similarly to work.



Chapter III

PRISONERS OF THE PITS


PAT experienced a somewhat different fate from that of the two men. She was consigned to one of the pits; but, though she was chained to the stake, she was not whipped, nor was she compelled to dig.

She was greatly relieved at this concession to her womanhood until, cutting through the harsh medley of groans, whip-cracks and guttural cries, she heard the close voices of two guards conversing in English.

"Make her dig."

"No. The count will surely order her to be brought to the palace. He will not want her worn out from digging."

"But she could well stand a little bit of whipping -- "

"No," the other protested. "In this case, the count will prefer to do his own whipping."

"Maybe you're right," the overseer growled, and moved away down the line of pits.