"012 (B043) - The Man Who Shook The Earth (1934-02) - Lester Dent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

Outside the drug store, the newsboy was still howling.
"Paper!" he cried. "Read about the great earthquake!"
From the phone receiver pressed to Monk's ear came a voice. It was a remarkable voice, for it seemed peculiarly able to adapt itself to the limitations of telephone transmission. It came from the metal diaphragm with the clarity of a bell.
"Doc Savage speaking," said the voice.
"Listen, Doc!" Monk howled. "Why didn't you tell us you were gonna work on Johnny's eye tonight?"
"You fellows would only have stood around and moped," Doc replied. "I was just saving you the worry."
Monk snorted. He knew there was logic in what Doc said, but he hardly appreciated the kindness. He would have preferred to stand outside the operating room and sweat and worry throughout the critical period. "Johnny" was a very close friend indeed.
"Did it turn out all rightЧthe operation, I mean?" Monk asked, as if he wanted to be reassured that Johnny was all right.
"It did," Doc replied. "Johnny will be walking around tomorrow, and in a few days, will be reading papers with that bad eye."
"So soon!" Monk ejaculated.
"The operation was largely one of adjustment," Doc explained. "It's too technical to go into over the phone. What's on your mind?"
Monk had been so concerned over Johnny's prospects that he had temporarily overlooked the thing which had first moved him to call.
"I guess I pulled a boner, Doc," he said.
He told of the appearance of Velvet at the skyscraper office, of the five-hundred-dollar bribe which he had taken, and finally, of the disposal of the bribe at the breadline.
"I nearly keeled over when the guy coughed up five hundred, Doc," he finished. "I didn't like him a bit. But I decided to take his money. He couldn't steal anything around the office. Everything was locked up. And I knew you did not plan to show up there again tonight."
MONK, waiting for Doc's reaction to the information, started violently, and glanced around inside the phone booth. Then he pressed the receiver more tightly to his ear and grinned.
A strange sound was coming from the receiver. It was low, mellow, and trilling, like the song of some strange feathered creature of the jungle, or the sound of a wind filtering through a denuded forest.
It was melodious, this eerie note, although without tune. It came from the telephone receiver with such astounding clarity that Monk had been startled into glancing about, thinking it was made by some one in the booth with him.
Monk had heard this sound before. It was part of Doc Savage, a small thing which he did in moments of concentration. To his friends, it was possessed of many meanings.
Sometimes, it was Doc's cry of battle; again, it was his song of triumph. Occasionally, It precoursed some plan of action. Often it came when Doc was surprised.
Just now, Monk concluded the sound must indicate that Doc was puzzled.
"Everything around the office was locked up?" Doc queried.
"Sure! Everything. This guy couldn't do any harm. That's why I relieved him of his mazuma."
"Since the man lied about working for a newspaper," Doc said, "we'd better look into this, Monk. Something is up."
"So I figured," said Monk.
"I'll meet you in the lobby of our office building in about fifteen minutes from now."
"Quarter of an hour it is," said Monk, and hung up. He waddled out of the booth.
VELVET had been quite sincere in addressing Monk as the Janitor. The homely, apish fellow looked the part; his garb was shabby enough. His hair needed cutting badly, and he could have stood a shave to advantage.
No doubt the thing which had misled Velvet most of all was the fact that there did not seem room enough for a thimbleful of brains behind Monk's low forehead.
Monk's looks were deceptive. He was not a janitor; he was a chemist of world-wide repute. His most jealous colleague admitted that Monk was a magician of the test tubes.
Monk's short legs pumped like pistons as he headed for Doc Savage's skyscraper office. The grin was back on his homely face.
So Johnny would be able to use his left eye now! That was swell!
Johnny and Monk were both members of a group of six remarkable men. Just as Monk was a great chemist, and Johnny a world-renowned geologist, so were three of the others experts in their lines. One was a lawyer, another an electrical wizard, and the third an engineer.
The other member of this group of sixЧDoc SavageЧwas the leader. Incredibly enough, Doc was a greater chemist, a greater engineer, a greater lawyer, a more learned geologist, and a more skilled electrical expert than any of the other five.
Doc Savage's forte was not surgery alone. His fund of learning covered almost all things. Sometimes those associated with him were inclined to wonder if this amazing man had not in some miraculous fashion attained that supreme goal of studentsЧan infinite knowledge of all things.
Fabulous as Doc Savage's accomplishments seemed, there were actually nothing of the supernatural about them. They were things which could be duplicated by another, simply by going through the years of preparation to which Doc had submitted himself. From the cradle, Doc had been trained for a definite purpose in life.
Doc's life work was to go here and there, to the ends of the earth if necessary, striving to help those in need of help, and punishing those who justly deserved it.
The love of excitement and adventure, together with an unbounded admiration for Doc Savage, and the pleasure they got out of associating with him, held Doc's live aids in a group.
Monk, just before he reached the skyscraper, stepped aside to avoid a newsboy. The lad was howling: "Earthquake! Read about the earthquake in South America!"
Monk was not at all interested in earthquakes.
Monk entered the skyscraper lobby. He walked past the phalanx of elevators. Of each operator, he asked a question.
"Have you brought down a guy from eighty-six within the last few minutesЧa bird in evening clothes, who walked like he thought a lot of himself?"
"That gentleman just left," reported the third attendant.
Monk made a clicking sound of regret with his tongue and the roof of his mouth.
"Here comes Doc Savage!" an elevator operator said dramatically.
THE exclamation was a bit breathless, and filled with awe. It was as if the operator were seeing a famous personage for the first time. Yet it was certain that this attendant saw Doc Savage many times daily.
Monk turned. He understood how they felt. He had himself been closely associated with Doc Savage for years, yet he still got something of a wallop each time he saw the metallic giant that was Doc.
Doc Savage, crossing the cavernous lobby, did not look the giant that he was. Tendons and vast muscles bundled his body like cables, yet they were developed in such universal fashion that they blended in a strikingly symmetrical whole.
It was only when Doc came close to other men that his huge size became apparent.
Bronze was the color motif on Doc Savage's skin. Due to the corded hardness of his muscles, he resembled a statue of the metal. His eyes were weirdЧflaky golden pools which seemed always astir, always alive.