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

shoat eyed the captives.
The overalled men were in a highly nervous condition. What happened next gave
them a tremendous shock.
The pig seemingly began to speak.
"Something you do not understand is to happen to you gentlemen," the pig
apparently stated.
Under very ordinary conditions the swarthy men would have survived the shock of
hearing the pig talk to them. But their mental state was already upset. The
loquacious shoat was the last straw. One man gave way completely to
superstitious terror.
"Zis bronze oneТs eyes!" he screeched. "Zey Сave drive us crazy!"
He sank down on the floor, hands clasped, trembling.
Doc Savage lunged forward and gripped the frightened one. The fellow moaned as
he felt the awful strength of the metallic hands.
"Who sent you after me?" Doc demanded.
The other almost strangled in his haste to answer.
"Stroam," he gulped. "Stroam is senТ us, mТsieuТ."
"Who is Stroam?"
"We Сave never see his face, mТsieuТ. We deal with him by telephone and letter
only. Sometimes we is go places where he meet us anТ we talk. But we not see
him. Non! Stroam is stay out of sight."
"That sounds ridiculous," Doc advised, grimness in his expressive voice.
"
Oui, mТsieuТ," the other admitted. "But she is true. Stroam is verТ sly. He not
show himself."
"You are from northern Canada?"
"
Oui. From ze snow country."
"How did Stroam first get in contact with you?"
"We were in jail, mТsieuТ. We charge with steal ze trapperТs fur. Stroam is
furnish money, pay our fines. After zat, we take his order, oui."
"
Why did Stroam send you to get me?" Doc demanded.
"To keep yoТ from helping a man name Ben Lane, mТsieuТ."
"And who is Ben Lane?"
"That, mТsieuТ we not know."
This morsel seemed to be the last drop in the human information well. Doc pumped
verbally for some minutes longer, but secured nothing to elaborate what he had
already learned.

THE pig, seated on the hangar floor, had been watching proceedings. Winglike
ears were extended.
From time to time, Monk grinned at the shoat. These two were kindred souls. A
homelier individual than Monk would be hard to find, just as a more
grotesque-looking pig would be difficult to locate.
"You done a good job, Habeas Corpus," Monk addressed the pig.
"Thanks," said the pigЧor it sounded as if he had said it.
Monk was an excellent ventriloquist. He was putting the words in the pigТs
mouth. The shoat, Habeas Corpus, was MonkТs pet.
Ham twirled his sword cane and scowled at Habeas Corpus. Ham got along with