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

bronze man," Mahal declared. "Doc Savage looks like a giant made out of bronze.
And, sahib, you never saw such muscles!"
Stroam studied the contents of the envelope.
"There is a clipping here which says Doc Savage has some mysterious source of
fabulous wealth."
"He must have. He has built free hospitals which cost millions, and seems always
to have plenty of money."
"That is bad. Ben Lane may want financial aid from Doc Savage, as well as help
in combating me."
"Savage is a tough customer," Mahal put forth.
"I like worthy foes!"
While Stroam continued reading, there was to be heard only the crinkling of the
clippings and an occasional blare of an automobile horn from the street outside.
Stroam spoke finally, and his squeaking voice sounded slightly uneasy. "You are
sure Doc Savage did not learn you were observing him?"
"Positive, sahib," insisted Mahal.
"It is well. I do not want Savage put on his guard."
Mahal detected a hidden meaning in this. "What do you mean?"
"I have already taken measures to dispose of this Doc Savage."
"But how did you know where to locate him?"
"From your previous reports, my friend."
Mahal shivered slightly. "I hope there is no slip, sahib. What are these
measures you have taken?"
"That," said Stroam sharply, "is my own affair."

Chapter II. THE BRONZE MAN
MAHAL would have been somewhat less certain of himself could he have stood at a
designated spot on the Hudson River water front at that moment. What occurred
there would have been a shock to the wily fakir.
The HudsonТs banks here were lined with piers and warehouses. Passenger liners
and freight steamers were tied up at some of the wharves. Others had apparently
not been used for some time.
The extremely large pier-warehouse with "Hidalgo Trading Company" emblazoned on
its front seemed to belong to the latter category. The pier on which the edifice
stood was of somewhat unusual construction. The warehouse walls extended down
into the water. These walls were of concrete, not beautiful, but substantial in
appearance.
Had anyone been offered an opportunity to measure those walls, they would have
been found to be several feet thick, and reinforced with a mesh of stout steel
beams. They were virtually bomb-proof. There were no windows in the building.
The innocent-looking roof was as substantial as the walls.
This Hidalgo Trading Company warehouse was little less than a gigantic vault.
A roadster drove up and stopped before the huge steel doors at the shoreward end
of the building. The big engine of the roadster was almost noiseless under its
long, somber-colored hood.
The driver was the white-bearded gentleman who had temporarily relieved Mahal of
his envelope of newspaper clippings.
Apparently, he was expected, for the ponderous metal warehouse doors slid open,
and an instant after the roadster rumbled inside, they closed again.
The warehouse interior presented a remarkable spectacle. It held almost a dozen