"031 (B060) - The Majii (1935-09) - Lester Dent.palmdoc.pdbTXT" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

"Stick in here five minutes and be healthy," advised the masked man to those left behind.
One pilot did not take the advice, and thrust his head out, with the result that a gun banged and plaster jumped off the stucco wall well above his head. Every one remained out of sight after that, and they heard a car go moaning away into the night.
The masked man drove the car furiously, hit the main highway, swung left, took the first right turn, and held the machine at seventy.
Later, he turned into a winding lane which crossed the island and slowed the pace, on the principle that nothing is more suspicious than a car traveling at an unnatural speed.
The blinded man had been silent with his agony, but now he spoke.
"Thanks, pal," he said. "Who are you?"
The masked man said nothing.
"You done me a turn," grumbled the blinded one. "Any reason why we can't knock ourselves down to each other?"
"No reason," said the masked man. "How's the lamps?"
"Not bad," said the other. "Take a gander at 'em, will you."
The masked man stopped the car, removed the emergency bandage and scrutinized the sliced eyeballs. There was not the remote chance of the eyesight being saved.
"Whatcha think?" the blinded man gulped eagerly.
"Could be worse," said the other.
"Sure. I'll be up and lookin' at the dames in a week." The sightless one settled back on the cushions with a sigh. "Say, wher'd you come from? I don't know that voice."
"New man," said the other. "I just mixed up in it."
"Hot stuff, what?"
"You said it."
"Think it's worth the trouble?"
"Sure thing. Biggest the world has seen."
"You must know more about it than I do," said the blind man. "I don't even know what it's all about."
"It's big," said, the masked man dryly.
THE car went over a stretch that needed repaving, bucking and swaying, the headlights jumping up and down far ahead. The engine ran quietly, however, and the springs did not need oiling.
"You on the pay roll?" the masked man asked curiously. "Or do you get a share?"
"Pay roll. You?"
"Same. Who hired you?"
"Guy named Kadir Lingh," grunted the blinded man.
"Hm-m-m!" the other said explosively. "That's funny. Kadir Lingh was the bird who came in on the plane tonight, the lad you fellows were to get."
The other was holding his eyes and wincing.
"That is funny," he mumbled. "We only had his description. We were to grab him and take him to the guy who hired us. Only it didn't go off."
The car sailed over a very steep hill in easy high gear.
"Describe the man who hired you," requested the driver.
The blinded man would miss his eyes. He had been very observant. True, he had a character easy to describe, for he was painting a word picture of the maker of jewels, Rama Tura.
The masked man laughed shortly when the description ended.
"That," he said, "is Rama Tura, the man who makes diamonds and other jewels out of pebbles and imitation jewels."
"He hired you?"
"I left him," said the masked man, "not more than an hour ago."
"I don't understand it," mumbled the one who did not have his eyes. "He said he was named Kadir Lingh, and that he was the big-shot in some province in or around India."
"Rama Tura is a slick egg," advised the pilot of the car. "No doubt he told you he was Kadir Lingh so that the police would look for the wrong man in case they caught you and you talked."
"I wouldn't talk."
"Sure, sure. Rama Tura, maker of jewels, just wasn't taking any chances."
The blinded man groaned. "I wonder what the whole game is?"
"Don't you know?" the masked one exploded.
"Heck no. I was told it was big, and that it would mean millions of dollars and involve most of Asia before it was over. That's everything I know. Rama Tura, if that's really who hired me, don't tell much."
"How did he come to contact you?"
"Oh, I belong to a mob that does little jobs," said the blinded man. "It wouldn't be hard for a guy who wanted a job done to hear of us. The bossЧRama TuraЧhad some of them guys he brought from Jondore, but he needed some Americans to kinda help out. That's where we came in."
"That," queried the masked man, "is all you know?"
There was something queer about his voice. It had changed, changed remarkably. It was not at all like it had been a moment ago. The blinded man realized that.
"Say!" he exploded. "Who are you, anyway? What's your name?"
"Doc Savage," said the masked man.
Chapter VII. SUSPICIONS