"050 (B033) - The Terror in the Navy (1937-04) - Lester Dent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

"Mystery to me," said Pat.
"Hm-m-m-m."
Renny wrung water out of his coat skirts. "Where'd you get this plane?"
"Built it to enter races next summer," said Pat.
Long Tom snapped suddenly, "Look here, Pat! Doc wouldn't like to have you mixing in this! If Doc were here, he would tell you to clear out."
"And telling," snapped Pat, "is all the good it would do!"
"Look!" Renny grunted suddenly and pointed. "What's them things?"
Two collapsed masses of silk were floating in the water, buoyed up by patches of air imprisoned under the cloth. Parachutes!
"That explains how they got out of the balloon," said Renny disgustedly. "Left it before you dropped those flares!"
They gathered the parachutes aboard, aware they might serve as clues. Then Pat taxied her plane up the river.
"Kinda head for that pier to starboard," Long Tom said.
"We left Johnny there, guarding a prisoner." They alighted on the barge and looked about and called.
Then they became alarmed. Excited dashing about followed for some time.
At last they found Johnny's somewhat shapeless hat lying in a dark spot. Long Tom picked it up. He dropped it almost instantly, and held his hands out in front of him.
"Blood!" he said hoarsely. "On the hat!"
Chapter 6. THE TRAP
GAUNT, incredibly bony Johnny had blood on his hand, too. He was acutely conscious of this, the first thing as he awakened. He was also in a car. He opened his eyes, saw blackness, and something hurt his eyeballs. Blindfolded, of course! Somebody had banged him over the head on the pier, he recalled.
"An unpropitious situation," Johnny said vaguely.
"Yep!" said a harsh voice. "He must be the one called Johnny. The one who uses big words."
A man groaned. Johnny reflected that this one who groaned sounded about as he himself felt.
"How you comin', pal?" a voice asked the other sufferer.
"I guess I'll live," mumbled the man who had groaned. "Say, did you two guys get out of the balloon with parachutes, then come back and get me?"
"That's the idea," said the voice. "We popped your bony pal, here, on his scholarly head."
"Where we goin' now?"
"To get in touch with Fuzzy," the other replied. "He should be told that Doc Savage wasn't as dumb as we figured. Fuzzy can tell the chief, and we'll get our orders."
Bony Johnny lay perfectly still. He didn't want them knocking him senseless again. He wanted to stay awake and hear all he could. Maybe he could overhear enough information to explain the mystery of what was happening to the United States navy ships.
They rode for a long time. Johnny's blindfold was removed. He could see suburban streets.
"Just yell," he was told, "and you'll learn what a dead man feels like."
Johnny didn't yell.
They drove into a neat driveway edged by green shrubbery and leading to a trim bungalow with green shutters and a red tile roof. The shutters were closed. A radio played behind them. The car drove into an attached garage, and Johnny was led up into the house.
A snaky-looking man with a growth of dark hair on his person met them.
"This is Johnny, one of Doc Savage's men," said one of Johnny's captors. "We thought we'd bring him to you, Fuzzy."
The snaky, hairy man shut off the radio, then yelled at the top of his voice, "What in the hell is this you're telling me?"
The story of what had happened came out in hurried sentences. Serpentine and hirsute Fuzzy heard it through in the manner of a man being told he has inadvertently exposed himself to a contagious disease.
When the recital was ended, Fuzzy walked toward the door.
"I'm gonna contact the chief and find out what to do about this," he said.
FUZZY was gone perhaps ten minutes, and came back looking more worried than when he had left.
"The chief sure warmed up!" he grunted.
Fuzzy turned toward a lean fellow who wore a coal-black hat with the brim turned down all around.
"Shade, you get the bread truck ready to roll," he instructed. "We're taking this guy with us so as to bait the bronze guy."
"Right you are, Fuzzy," said "Shade," and left the room.
A few minutes later, the others came from the house, Johnny with them, and got into the truck. Shade drove. The others rode in the rear, and talked.
"What's on the schedule?" a man asked.
"Doc Savage, the chief figures, must have learned what was in that radiogram sent by Lieutenant Bowen Toy," said Fuzzy. "The message said for Savage to go to the Parkview Hotel and look inside a picture of Bowen for something. Well, the bronze guy ain't had a chance to be there yet, because he's checking at the place where the ships crashed."
"So what?"
"Doc Savage will probably follow the instructions when he's finished his examination, and when he does, that'll be the last thing he'll ever do!"
Shade, driving, was given an address. It was a big house, alone in three or four acres of landscaping. The house was of very dark red brick, with very white window frames and a tiny white porch.
A lean man with more than his share of nose met them at the door. He wore evening clothes, but looked much too wide awake. He grinned when he saw who they were, opened the door wide and dropped in the crook of one arm a shotgun which he had held behind himself, out of sight.
"Where's Lieber Von Zidney?" asked Fuzzy.
"In the library," said the man who had let them in.