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

his ears. It was as if he thought something had happened to his organs of
hearing.
His behavior was caused by a strange sound which had come into being.

THE sound almost defied description. It had an uncanny quality. Of a trilling
nature, it ran up and down the musical scale, yet adhered to no tune. It might
have been the note of an exotic jungle bird, or the filtering of a wind through
a denuded forest.
Perhaps the thing which befuddled the man was the way the fantastic trilling
seemed to fill all the vast hangar, yet no particular spot could be designated
as its source.
Monk and Ham exchanged glances. It was obvious that the eerie note conveyed a
meaning to them.
"What is zat noise?" hissed the gunwielder.
Neither Monk nor Ham answered. Instead, their chests swelled. They were drawing
in full breathsЧbreaths of relief.
Monk shifted slightly. Ham did likewise.
"Quiet, mТsieuТs!" they were ordered harshly.
Their captors watched them intently. This was the very thing Monk and Ham
wished. They did not want the visitors to glance upward.
A crisscross maze of great steel girders supported the heavy roof. Through these
girders a great bronze figure was swinging.
At one place, the girders were many feet apart. The bronze man spanned this
space with a leap which showed an almost fabulous strength and agility. Tendons
cabling his hands and neck resembled bundled piano wires, bronze-coated.
Making scarcely more noise than drifting smoke, he neared a point above the
overalled men. He crouched there like a gigantic cat. The bronze of his hair was
slightly darker than that of his skin, and was like a metallic skullcap.
Many features, about this giant man of metal, were arresting. His eyes, for
instance, were strange. They were like pools of flake-goldЧa dust-fine gold
which was whirled continuously about by tiny winds.
The giant launched outward and down. He landed beside the spokesman of the gang.
Simultaneously, he struck.
The recipient of the blow made not a sound. He spun away, eyes glazed, arms limp
as strings. When he went down, it was to land in a slack pile.
Long before he fell, however, two more of the group began screaming. Bronze
hands had gripped them, hands which possessed an almost unearthly strength.
Muscles ground under the thewed fingers, skin burst and oozed crimson droplets.
Monk and Ham went into action.
They had held the attention of their captors to permit the bronze man to attack
unobserved.
They had expected the bronze man to make such a move, for the strange trilling
sound they had heard belonged to the bronze giant. It was part of him, a small
unconscious thing he did when contemplating some course of action, or in moments
of stress.
Monk dived at a foe, avoided getting shot by a ducking, weaving process. MonkТs
victim fired once, missing. Monk clipped him alongside the head; then, using him
as a shield, rushed the others.
Ham unsheathed his sword cane. The blade leaped, twanged, and seemed to lose
itself in the air, so swiftly did it dart.