"034 (B014) - The Fantastic Island (1935-12) - Ryerson Johnson" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

Under the red lightning glare, surf on all sides broke against hidden reefs, churning the water to a bloody froth. But Pat and Ham came through the barrage of wave-dashed rocks and reeled, half drowned and gasping, onto a mangrove-studded beach. Monk swashed ashore close behind them, holding the squirming Habeas Corpus under an arm with difficulty.



"That hog'll kick a rib out for you some day," Ham warned, breathing hard.



"Lay off Habeas Corpus," Monk gasped, "or I'll be kickin' out some ribs on my own account."



The red luminance bloomed again against the clouds. It crawled and writhed, disappeared, and blanketed out again like a bloody mist floating in air.



"What is it?" Pat demanded, shivering in spite of the sultry night.



"Nothing supernatural," Ham explained. "You notice the color on the clouds does not seep through from above. The light is reflected from underneath -- "



"There's an active volcano somewhere on the island," Monk summed up.



Pat pressed water out of her drenched hair. "Do you suppose here's where Johnny is?"



"We'll have to find out," Ham said, grimly.



"One thing I'd like to clear myself on," Pat said earnestly. "The shipwreck. I was holding dead in the middle of the channel when it happened."



"Yeah," Monk agreed, "it wasn't your fault."



"This shipwreck was arranged," Ham said, ominously.



"Some one on this island set those lights so we'd run slam on the reef, you mean?" Monk muttered.