"008 (B018) - The Sargasso Ogre (1933-10) - Lester Dent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

Bending low, Doc explained them.



Into the sour murk of the hut there abruptly came a strange, exotic sound. It was a low, trilling, mellow note, which might have been the sound of some weird bird of the jungle, or a wind filtering through the piled stone of the ancient ruins around about. Although melodious, it had no tune. It had an uncanny quality, for it seemed to come from no particular spot.



It was part of Doc Savage, this sound -- a small, unconscious thing which he did in moments of stress.



The bloody finger prints were from Long Tom's right hand! Doc had seen the prints of his five men countless times, and could recognize them instantly.



He grasped the stone lid. It had rasped under Homar's clutch, but it lifted noiselessly under Doc's hand -- so silently, that it almost seemed the bronze man had a supernatural power to command quiet.



Cold, damp steps led down; then came a black, low tunnel. Dust of ages lay on the floor. The sound of Homar's footsteps thumped like the beat of a water-filled drum.



Doc whipped forward without noise, showing no light, sensitive hands feeling out the way. The walls were rough. In spots, there were hard, crusted deposits formed by water seepage through the centuries.



They came to a spot where the ancient corridor branched three ways. Homar took the one to the right. He seemed to know where he was going.



The character of the walls abruptly changed, becoming solid instead of jointed masonry. The passages were hewn out of natural rock.



Doc drew a small case from a pocket. This held a peculiar powder. At frequent intervals, he dropped a pinch on the tunnel floor.



Homar's footbeats led on iinterminably. Shuffle and thud! Shuffle and thud! The noises had a dull, deathlike quality. The air was dusty. It was like breathing within a trunk which had been long closed.



Again and again, the passages branched. And every few yards, Doc left a bit of his powder on the floor. His actions might have seemed a bit puzzling. The stuff gave off no odor, no phosphorescent glow.



The tunnel widened, forming a series of long rooms. Doc's hands, along the walls, encountered what felt vaguely like rounded stones. These were arched entirely to the ceiling. He knew what they were.