"015 (B069) - The Mystery on the Snow (1934-05) - Lester Dent (b)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

Balancing long, sharp blades, two dark men advanced on Renny and Midnat DТAvis.
"Wait!" gritted Stroam. "I have questions to ask. You, with the big fists. How
much does Doc Savage know of me?"
"Go jump in the ocean and pull a wave over your head," Renny boomed.
"That tune will soon change," Stroam predicted ominously.

Chapter V. DISASTER RAID
FEW citizens of New York City knew of Doc SavageТs secret hangar on the Hudson
River water front.
Many individuals, however, knew that the remarkable bronze man maintained
quarters on the eighty-sixth floor of the cityТs finest skyscraper. The
newspapers had published that fact innumerable times.
Not many had seen the interior of DocТs skyscraper office. But it was vaguely
known that there were three great rooms, covering the entire eighty-sixth floor.
One of these held a vast laboratory, equipped with the most modern apparatus.
Another chamber held a library of scientific tomes, which for completeness had
few equals.
The third room was an outer office, fitted with a safe, a costly inlaid table,
and comfortable furniture. It was here that Doc received those who had occasion
to come to him.
Johnny arrived in this room in somewhat of a flurry.
Johnny was extremely tall, and thinner than it seemed any man could be. No
tailor could fit clothing to his bony frame. As a result, all of his garments
always appeared ill-fitting.
A monocle was attached to JohnnyТs lapel with a ribbon. It was actually a
powerful magnifying glass. Johnny needed a magnifier in his profession as
archaeologist and geologist, so he carried it there for convenience.
William Harper Littlejohn was the name by which the world of science knew
Johnny. He had few equals in his profession.
"Long Tom!" he called.
Out of the laboratory came a querulous voice. "Scat! Go Сway and lemme alone!"
Johnny ambled to the laboratory door and looked in.
Major Thomas J. "Long Tom" Roberts was a small, thin man, who looked as if he
had grown up in a cellar where there was no light. He had the complexion of a
mushroom. His forehead was tremendous, bulging.
He was working over a complicated mass of electrical apparatus. This device,
Johnny knew, was Long TomТs mania at the moment. With it, utilizing the
projection of atomic streams, there was a possibility of killing destructive
insects. This would be an inestimable boon to farmers.
Long Tom was the electrical wizard of the organization. He and Johnny were the
two remaining members of Doc SavageТs group of five aides.
"Why is your radio not functioning?" Johnny asked with scholastic preciseness.
Long Tom frowned impatiently. "I switched the dang thing off."
"Why? May I ask?"
"You may ask. The blasted static bothers me."
"You missed something," Johnny advised.
"I missed a lot of static," Long Tom shrugged impatiently. "ListenЧyou
ex-college professors may not need peace and quiet to look at your rocks and
prehistoric relics, but a guy like me needs a lot of it. If you havenТt any
rushing business, clear out."