"044 (B077) - The South Pole Terror (1936-10) - Lester Dent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

This was true. Here and there was a prone form, most of them lodged against obstructions, where they had been washed by the waves, or tumbled by the pitch of the boat.
"Who's gonna stick with the plane?" Monk demanded.
"You are," Ham said, arousing slightly from his illness.
"Like heck!"
"Match for it," Doc suggested.
Monk promptly produced a coin, said, "Call it!"
"Heads," groaned Ham.
Monk smothered a grin, flipped, and Ham naturally lost, since the coin was one with tails on both sides. Monk had carried it for some time, hoping for a chance to trim the dapper Ham.
Grinning from ear to ear, the homely chemist buckled on a parachute while Ham took over the controls glumly.
"That boat is probably jumping around worse than this plane," Ham consoled himself sourly.
The parachute descent to the decks of the Regis was accomplished, with no great difficulty. Cold calculation robbed it of most of its dangers. Doc Savage dropped a smoke bomb first to get the wind's direction and velocity. Then he had Monk bail out.
His purpose in sending Monk down first was to have himself in a position to offer assistance, should it be necessary.
Monk landed on the after deck. By a wild scramble, he managed to escape from the harness before the wind carried the silken 'chute lobe overboard.
Monk was still wearing a queer look from the narrowness of his escape when Doc Savage landed expertly near by. The bronze man was already out of the harness and let it go instantly.
Together, they walked across the deck toward the amidships sector. They began to notice strange things almost at once.
"Hey!" Monk exploded. "Look how sunburned this fellow is!"
THE homely chemist was indicating the first of the bodies. The victim was a large man, whose skin was burned a beet red. Doc Savage went over and made a hasty examination. When he stood erect, he shook his head.
"Life extinct," he said. "The cause is not plain. It is unfortunate that we did not bring certain instruments and apparatus for a chemical analysis and diagnosis."
"The guy is dead," Monk muttered. "Speaking roughly, what'd you say ailed him?"
"Roughly," Doc Savage said, "the man appears to have died of sunstroke."
Monk scratched his head, and they walked on. They found two more motionless forms, both without life. Nearing the salon companionway, Monk paid particular attention to the seams of the deck. The deck planking was of teakwood, with compound in the seams, and some of this compound apparently had been squeezed out.
"Blazes!" Monk squawked. "Doc, you remember that silver sloop which was found on Long Island Sound with all of those dead people aboard?"
"Very distinctly," the bronze man admitted. "Exactly such conditions as these were found aboard."
They entered the salon, and it became evident that death was far from general aboard. The salon, which extended the full beam of the ship and was equipped with comfortable chairs and divans, had been converted into an emergency hospital. Evidently no lookout was being kept, and the howl of the gale must have drowned the sound of the plane's motors, which were silenced.
Suddenly, it became plain why no watch was being kept. The eyes of those present, for the most part, were covered with bandages.
A man approached Doc Savage and Monk. He was a lean fellow with stringy muscles and a leathery hide somewhat less sunburned than the othersЧif it was sunburn. He lifted a corner of the bandage covering his eyes.
"Who are you gentlemen?" he demanded. "And how in all damnation did you escape that infernal heat?"
Doc Savage made known the identity of himself and Monk.
The stringy man was properly astounded at the information. He stripped the bandage from his eyes, as if to see more of the newcomers, only to blink violently and replace the wrapper.
"This has been an incredible thing!" he gasped. "My name is Ward. I am one of the stewards. Can I give you any information?"
"The whole story," Doc Savage said.
The man told about the strange heat, the actions of the passengers and the crew.
"It grew worse and worse," he said. "The heat, I mean. There came a time when, I think, every one aboard this ship was overcome. And then it went away."
"How long did it require for the return of normal temperatures?" Doc Savage asked.
"Some time," said the man. "In fact, it is still warm. But the strange heatЧthe stuff that knocked every one outЧwhy, that disappeared almost instantly."
"Have you seen any sign of a man named Thurston H. Wardhouse?" Doc Savage asked.
"No," said the man.
"Or of my two aides, Renny and Johnny?"
"They were aboard," the other admitted. "But there has been so sign of them since thatЧthat period when the fantastic heat had every one unconscious."
DOC SAVAGE said nothing to Monk about being worried, but the homely chemist could detect perturbation in the haste with which his bronze chief pushed a search of the Regis. They took the steward, who had said his name was Ward, along to serve as guide in the hunt for Renny, Johnny and Thurston H. Wardhouse.
Searching an ocean liner is not a task lightly dismissed. When the scrutinizing is delegated to three individuals, the passages and cabins of such a vessel assume the characteristics of a vast labyrinth.
They made a number of discoveries.
First, the magnetism seemed to be gone out of the magnetic compasses.
"It was the same way on that silver sloop in Long Island Sound!" Monk reminded.
Secondly, they concluded that those individuals who had been deepest in the innards of the liner throughout the spell of queer heat had been least affected. The firemen in the engine room, for instance, while they had perspired prodigiously, had not been overcome in numbers.
They did not find Johnny, Renny, or the mysterious Thurston H. Wardhouse.
An hour later, Doc Savage announced a decision.
"It would take a week to search the ship thoroughly," he said. "Renny and Johnny should have answered, since we have been shouting their names. They are either incapacitated, or not aboard."
"If they're not aboard, where the blazes did they go?" Monk wanted to know immediately.
Instead of answering, Doc Savage said, "To make a thorough investigation in an effort to learn just what happened on this ship, we will need some highly specialized apparatus. That mysterious heat seems to be the really baffling angle, and it is essential that we get an idea of what it is.