"017 (B002) - The Thousand-Headed Man (1934-07) - Lester Dent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

One of the remaining pair was extremely tall, and skinnier than it seemed possible any man could be and still live. A monocle - actually a powerful magnifying glass - angled from his lapel by a ribbon. This was "Johnny" - William Harper Littlejohn - renowned geologist and archaeologist.

"Long Tom" Roberts was the third man. Electrical wizard extraordinary was Long Tom, a man who had already earned a place among the famous.

"Somethin's up!" Monk whispered.

"The black stick wrapped in oiled paper that was tossed to Doc at the airport?" Ham breathed. "I had a hunch that meant trouble."

"Sh-h-h!" admonished Monk. "Just wanted to let you know there may be fireworks. These slanteyes are armed."

Monk returned to the room where the orientals were sitting, and asked them, "You say you've come here to help us guard a black stick?"

"You catchem idea," he was told.

"But what's this all about?"

"Black stick, him velly much want by some fella."

"By whom?"

The slanteyed one shrugged sloping shoulders. "Velly solly - no can tell. Boss man, he come this place byebye. Mebbe so him talkee you. Savvy?"

"Humph!" Monk eyed the unnaturally huge ears of his pet pig.

"Doc Savage b'long black stick?" asked a visitor.

"You mean - has he got it?" Monk blinked tiny eyes. "Before I say anything, you guys have got to tell a story that means something. Who is supposed to have given this stick to Doc Savage?"

The celestial thought fast on that one. "Boss man," he answered.

"What's his name?"

"No can tell."

"What is the black stick, then?"

The visitors thought that over, exchanging glances, then shrugged in concert. "Velly solly, no can tell."

Monk scratched his head, then got up from the chair and roamed the room. His elaborately aimless wanderings took him to an adjacent chamber crossing hurriedly to a window, he thrust out his head and saw Doc Savage, only a few feet from him.

"I ain't gittin' nothing' out of 'em, Doc," Monk breathed. "Shall I go ahead and scare 'em away?"

"Do that," Doc directed.

The word exchange was so low that the orientals could not have heard.


MONK AMBLED back. He scratched his head and aggravated the pig with a toe.

The slant-eyed men looked on, faces bland. It might have been that they carefully concealed some amusement; Monk's very homeliness was comical - more than one individual had laughed outright at his appearance. But Monk was an amiable soul who didn't mind.