"021 (B044) - The Sea Magician (1934-11) - Lester Dent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

The reluctance which Doc Savage displayed toward newspaper publicity had the effect of making the journalists more determined. Had Doc Savage hired a publicity agent and showed a desire for news space, the scribes would have ignored him to a degree; as it was, they fell over themselves to get a story about him.
The high-ranking Englishmen were present because Doc Savage had done great service for their country in the past. For instance, there were delicate procedures in surgery which the unusual man of mystery had instituted and which had saved numerous lives. Too, there were charities to which Doc Savage had contributed enormous sums of moneyЧmoney which, incidentally, he had taken from villainous individuals who had no right to it.
Doc Savage had cabled specifically that there was to be no reception in his honor; but the Englishmen had ignored that. They stood at the gangplank with the journalists and scrutinized each passenger to alight, in search of their remarkable visitor.
Roustabouts unloaded baggage at the cargo gangway, sweating and swearing. Several of these noted a tall figure which strode past them and went ashore.
The individual wore a turban and a flowing robe. His face was almost hidden by a ruffle of the robe, but that portion of it which showed to view was a nut-brown color.
The roustabouts, thinking the one who had disembarked was an oriental, of which several were aboard the liner, paid no great attention, especially after they saw the individual in the turban show the proper papers to an officer on the dock. They did note that officer bowed with marked deference after he had seen the name on the papers.
Observers would have been surprised had they seen the strange personage after he entered an unused shed on the shore end of the dock.
Indeed, one person was watching as the individual in the turban entered the shack, but this watcher kept out of sight behind a huge wooden bitt on the dock, being very careful not to show himself.
AS SOON as he was concealed inside the shed, the man who had just come ashore removed the turban. A few strokes erased brown grease paint from his features. He had been walking with a stoop, but as he whipped off the white robe, he straightened.
The erstwhile wearer of oriental garb, when he left the shack, was a striking personality. He seemed enormously larger than he had before, but it was only by comparing his size to the proportions of the shack that his true Herculean build was evident.
The man's complexion was a metallic bronze, a hue that could only have come from exposure to a good many tropical suns. His hands and neck were notable for the unearthly size of the tendons and muscles which stood out under the bronze skin at each movement.
Most striking of all, however, were the eyes which caught stray light rays from a near-by street lamp. They were weird eyes, like pools of flake-gold which were being stirred continuously. There was a strange quality in them, a power to compel. They were hypnotic eyes.
The bronze man's features were regular, firm, and possessed an aspect of undeniable handsomeness. He swung along the gloomy street with a silent, athletic ease.
So outstanding was his appearance that a cab driver, glimpsing him by chance, stopped short and stared, mouth agape.
"Blimme!" breathed the hackman. "Wouldn't that bloke be a tough one in a fight!"
It was many hours before that hack driver ceased to see, in his mental eye, the astounding bronze man whom he had merely glimpsed.
The driver was so awe-struck that he failed to note a furtive individual who passed him in the near-by gloom. This man was the one who had been watching from behind the dock bitt, and he was trailing the giant of bronze. He did his shadowing furtively, showing experience at the art, and he seemed confident that the bronze man had not observed him.
The bronze man seemed in no hurry, nor did he give evidence of having a definite destination. He walked to the north, then swung west, and came finally to a corner. He loitered there for a time, apparently waiting for some one. His hands rested behind him, as if to support his weight, as he lounged against the corner.
The man who was shadowing the bronze individual was not close enough to note that the bronze man was doing something with one of his handsЧhe was apparently writing on the glass of the show window against which he leaned.
After a while, the bronze man walked on, moving slowly, heading into streets which were dark and filled with smells none too appetizing.
The shadow fell in behind.
SLIGHTLY less than five minutes later, two men approached the corner where the bronze giant had loitered and written on the glass show window. These two newcomers carried bags, and came from the direction of the dock where the transatlantic liner had tied up.
The pair were quarreling. They seemed on the point of flying at each other's throats.
"You awful mistake of nature!" gritted the one who was slender and extremely dapper of dress, and who carried a thin, black cane. "I'm ashamed to be seen with you, and especially with that filthy hog you're leading!"
"A horse collar for you, you overdressed shyster!" growled the other.
The latter's head came scarcely to the shoulders of his companion, who was not tall. But the man lacked very little of being as wide as he was tall. His arms were some inches longer than his stubby, bowed legs, and hands and wrists were rusty monstrosities from which grew hairs as thick as small shingle nails.
The man had an incredibly homely face, garnished with a mouth so huge that it seemed his maker had had an accident. He could easily be mistaken for a gorilla on the gloomy street.
"Go on, take a taxi to your hotel," snapped the man with the black cane. "Otherwise, some of these bobbies are likely to throw you in the local zoo, you missing link!"
The homely one said with a small, almost childlike voice, "If you think I like going around with an overdressed snob, you're nuts, you pain in the neck!"
At the apish man's heels trailed a pig. The pig was a remarkable specimen of the porker family, obviously a runt who would never grow beyond his present sizeЧthat of a small dog. The pig had long, thin legs, a gaunt body, and ears so huge that they looked as if they might serve for wings in an emergency.
The dapperly dressed man glared at the pig and wrenched at his black cane, which came apart near the handle, disclosing that it was a sword cane with a blade of fine steel.
"I'm certainly going to turn that hog into breakfast bacon one of these days, Monk!" he promised fiercely.
"Any time you're ready, Ham," growled the apish "Monk."
They came within sight of the corner where the bronze man had loitered. They stopped, seeming surprised.
"Doc ain't there!" grunted the gorillalike Monk.
"Hm-m-m,"
said "Ham," and absently sheathed his sword cane. "I wonder what happened? Doc said he would meet us there after he gave those newspaper men the slip."
They advanced, looked the vicinity over, and found no trace of the individual whom they sought.
"Maybe Doc left a message," Monk said, small-voiced.
The hairy fellow opened one of the leather bags and withdrew what at first might have been mistaken for a folding camera. He touched a switch on the side of this and pointed the round lense at the corner. The lense, instead of being clear glass, was purple, almost black.
Eventually, the homely man passed his queer device over the glass window. A strange thing happened. Written words sprang out where none had been before. They glowed in an eerie, electric blue.
MONK AND HAM: A MAN IS FOLLOWING ME. I AM CONTINUING ALONG THIS STREET. FOLLOW AND GRAB THE FELLOW.
DOC
Monk switched off the cameralike device without comment. Both he and Ham had received such messages from Doc Savage on other occasions, and knew that Doc had written the missive with a chemical chalk which was normally invisible, even with a moderately strong microscope, but which fluoresced, or glowed, when exposed to the ultraviolet light exuded by the lantern device which resembled a folding camera, or possibly a small magic lantern.
It was by this method that Doc Savage habitually left messages for his associatesЧand Monk and Ham were two members of Doc's group of five unusual aides.
MonkЧLieutenant Colonel Andrew Blodgett MayfairЧdespite his low forehead and apish appearance, was one of the most learned industrial chemists alive. HamЧBrigadier General Theodore Marley BrooksЧthe dapper dresser was a lawyer whose oratorical powers had swayed many a jury, and whose keen legal mind was capable of grasping the most intricate problem of law.
The two sought the shadows and gilded up the street. They were working in harmony now, their late quarrel temporarily elapsed. As a matter of fact, they were the best of friends, although acquaintances could not recall having heard one speak a civil word to the other.
The homely pigЧMonk had long ago named him Habeas Corpus to aggravate HamЧfollowed them silently at a word from Monk. The pig was well trained. Monk spent all his spare timeЧrather, that which was not expended in goading HamЧin training Habeas.
A FEW minutes after Monk and Ham merged themselves with the shadows of the Southampton Street, there was a sudden outburst of peculiar sounds. These came from a point some distance up the murky thoroughfare.
The sounds were such as might be made by two small dogs and a very big rat. The growling of the dogs was absent, but not so the noises of the rodent. Perhaps such burghers of Southampton as were aroused by the brief outburst did believe it to be made by prowling canines, and accordingly dismissed it, for no one came to investigate.