"Doc Savage Adventure 1938-12 The Devil Genghis" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doc Savage Collection)

Chapter III

BRONZE MAN TAKEN


THE four men in charge of the ambulance-fortress frowned at Cautious. They were nervous, on edge; they did not like the idea of things going wrong.

"Thought you knew this Doc Savage by sight?" one growled.

Cautious looked them over. Cautious had a mobile face and he could make his expression vicious.

"I've seen his pictures," he said. "He didn't go in the front door. And, buddy - just remember who's running this."

"We ain't in no army!" the other said sourly. Cautious took a flat pistol out of a pocket. "At a time like this, there's only one answer to argument," he said, hardly changing tone or expression.

The other man swallowed. It suddenly dawned on him that he should be frightened.

"I ain't arguin'!" he said hoarsely. Previously, he had known Cautious only by reputation. Cautious was not a gangster; as to just what Cautious was there seemed to be some doubt. Cautious had the habit of disappearing from New York for long periods, and was reputed to be something of an international gadder.

The four ambulance-fortress attendants subsided. Cautious had hired them, but they knew he was working for the girl, Toni Lash. They were to seize Doc Savage - a job they did not like, since they had heard a great deal about Doc Savage. That they had been offered a startling sum of money to help was all they knew. Why Doc Savage was to be seized was a mystery.

"You took this job," Cautious told them grimly, "and don't think you won't go through with it!"

They looked at his gun, then assured him they would go through with it.

Cautious put the gun away and went back upstairs to the window. Standing beside the machine gun, he watched the entrance of Metropolitan Hall with fixed intensity.

He could hear a roar of applause coming from the Hall.

The applause was filling the interior of the great hall with deafening volume. There was hand-clapping, whistling, stamping.

Doc Savage, on the stage, did not look nearly as ill at ease as he felt. He had been trained to conceal his emotions. And certainly the skill with which he had played his classical number on the violin left no suspicion that he was not perfectly at home. The quickest and loudest applause had come from the members of the audience who really knew music.

Now the bronze man played the clarinet number with the swing orchestra. The result was a joyful uproar. No one had to have an advanced education in classical music to know here was a number well done. In the vernacular of swing, the boys "sent gate," "slapped jibe on the dog house," "busted hide" and "gripped that git box." They went to town. The "jitterbugs" in the audience got up and danced in the aisles. It was a tremendous success.

Doc Savage, putting his instruments in their cases, and walking along a passage to the front entrance, was in a thoughtful frame of mind. Suddenly, he was realizing just how far from normal was the life he had lived, and was living.

The gobble of the machine gun across the street was a complete surprise.

The gun burst was short. Ten shots. Doc went down.

One moment, he stood at the top of the entrance steps. There was an open space around him - police were holding the crowd back. Then he was tumbling down the steps.

He landed loosely. His great bronzed hands gripped his legs. He'd been hit only in the legs. He started to get up. His knees buckled. He crouched, still
gripping his legs.

Then he slumped, a giant limp form. Turmoil had the crowd now. Some surged forward. Others fled. Police were helpless. There was screaming, yelling, angry shoving and frightened scrambling. The surface of the throng became a storm-tossed human sea.