"051 (B034) - Mad Eyes (1937-05) - Laurence Donovan" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

"And you said things were complicated, coroner?" he groaned. "If you're askin' me, they're all hell west an' crooked! We've got to find Doc Savage! I'm gettin' to a telephone! All you others hold yourselves ready to be arrested any minute!"
"They got the globes, Jane," Professor Spargrove was saying to Jane Davidson. "I don't know what I'll do. Years of work, and they're gone."
"I'll return to the laboratories with you, professor," announced Jane Davidson. "I have learned poor John Corbin was killed. He must have been knocked out before Doc Savage walked in on me. Anyway, I can't remember anything after that."
Despite repeated efforts, little was brought to light about what had happened to the millionaire. Van Ronzen stated that he had been riding along a Long Island country road. A car had suddenly crowded him into the ditch. Apparently he had been knocked out. When he had recovered, the whole world had changed.
Johnny, listening to the tale, formed a startling theory concerning the happenings of the night. But he had no means of verifying it. And what was more, he wasn't going to repeat it to any one. He didn't want to be considered crazy, too.
Inspector Higgins didn't believe anything of Van Ronzen's story. Neither did he believe Professor Spargrove had been seeing things. The inspector hadn't seen anything, so he had reached but one conclusion: All were mad.
Inspector Higgins left the scene in disgust and went back to headquarters. There he tried to make something out of the notes he had written. They were so badly scribbled they made little sense. After he got them straightened out, they made less sense.
AFTER Inspector Higgins had left, Monk, Renny and Johnny made repeated efforts to pick up Doc Savage's radio signal. They then decided that their quickest way of finding their bronze chief was to return to headquarters. Apparently nothing more could be done at the scene of the Spargrove Laboratories.
Doc Savage's headquarters covered the entire eighty-sixth floor of one of Manhattan's most impressive skyscrapers. Doc's famous laboratory, his great library of scientific volumes and his other devices, were housed under a tower of stone and steel.
"Daggonit!" groaned the sleepless Monk. "It ain't no use! If Doc's anywhere at all, he ought to be gettin' them signals!"
Monk, Renny and Johnny had been taking turns working the remarkable short-wave radio which was a part of Doc Savage's system. This specially powered transmitter and receiver could pick up the Doc Savage code in almost any part of the world.
"Confound it!" rumbled big Renny. "Why don't we do somethin'?"
"About this time," suggested Johnny, "a few thousand county and city police are looking for Doc. We'll probably get results by staying where Doc can locate us."
Chemistry, the tailless baboon, wandered restlessly around the laboratory. Sometimes he whined like a baby.
"Howlin' calamities!" squeaked Monk. "Anyway, I ain't waitin' much longer! I've been callin' Ham's club an' all over, an' he's not anywhere! The spooky devils that wrecked that car must've got him, or he wouldn't have busted that sword cane!"
MONK and the others would not have believed their own eyes if they could at this moment have been walking through an isolated corner of Central Park.
Some life stirred in Central Park. It being a sunny morning, a few men and women of the Park Avenue set cantered along a bridle path. Others who preferred early morning walks, were strolling along some of the bypaths.
On some of the more hidden Park benches, a few frowzy individuals unrolled themselves from newspapers. They blinked and yawned. The park had been their only lodging house. A park copper walked along. Occasionally he tapped the soles of a late sleeper.
But the copper did not disturb one man on a bench. This fellow was apparently of the better class. In fact, he was elegantly clad in the latest morning stripes affected by Park Avenue. In his buttonhole was a fresh gardenia.
The man flicked some dust from one knee with a pair of immaculate gloves. Beside him reposed a neat black cane. One or two persons hurried by. They glanced enviously at this paragon of the latest in spring fashions.
For the man thus enjoying the sunshine after a night of driving rain was none other than Theodore Marley Brooks. If Ham had suffered any ill results from his strange disappearance, he must have forgotten it.
Truthfully, Ham was having trouble with his memory at this moment. Those knowing his shrewd brain would have been amazed to know the lawyer was trying to assemble a few illusive facts.
Here he was all dressed for a morning stroll in the park. Everything was in perfect order. He had been bathed and shaved. Doubtless he must have come from his apartment in an exclusive club near Park Avenue.
Yet Ham had not the faintest recollection of where he had passed the night, or how he had arrived in Central Park.
"Monk and I started out to meet Doc," he murmured to himself. "Yes, that was it. Then Monk went off the highway. Good gravy! I'll have to call up and find out about that insect!"
No person was in sight as Ham arose and started along a gravel walk. But just then a small, unhealthy-looking fellow came across the park. This man had a sallow complexion. He appeared to be in the final stages of some serious ailment.
Any two or three thugs who might have tackled the fellow would have been in for a great shock. For the man was Major Thomas J. Roberts, otherwise known as "Long Tom."
He was the fifth of Doc Savage's companions.
Long Tom was the electrical wizard of the adventurous outfit. His appearance was most deceptive. Though small and apparently in poor health, Long Tom could handle several men larger than himself.
The sartorially perfect Ham instantly identified his colleague in Doc Savage's group. Jauntily swinging his black cane, Ham started across the plot of grass.
"Hello, Long Tom!" he called out. "I'm glad you happened along! I seem to be in somewhat of a mental fog this morning!"
THE pallid-faced electrician halted abruptly. He stared at Ham. For Long Tom had only a few minutes before been contacted by Renny and the others. This was why he was hurrying toward downtown Manhattan across Central Park.
And Long Tom had been informed of Doc's mysterious actions and disappearance the night before. Also, he had been told of Ham having vanished at the railroad crossing. Yet here was Ham, looking like a fashion plate and wholly unconcerned!
Ham was looking directly at Long Tom. Near-by, to one side, was a small pool in which a few pond lilies grew. Ham suddenly experienced a queer sensation. Something like an iron band tightened around his brain.
In the stagnant pool suddenly arose a great turmoil. Water and weeds were lashed about. It was as if the small pond had been hit by a cyclone wind.
Ham stood, staring stupidly at this manifestation. Out of the churning water arose a long, slimy head. It was followed by a score of others. Then it seemed to Ham there were hundreds of ugly heads with blobby, bright eyes.
Forked tails lashed through the water. Monstrous creatures came to life. One with a score of protruding necks seized upon another. Somehow, all of the necks succeeded in swallowing the other monster, dividing it into parts.
Onto the grass crawled long, serpent-like bodies. They had forked tongues. Then some seemed to sprout wings. They were attacking each other. Wide mouths gaped. Into these disappeared some of the monsters.
Now the air was filled with writhing, terrible bodies. All around Ham the sun must have disappeared. For he was in the midst of great, pudgy beasts. These flew without wings. Some came close.
Ham yelled loudly. He struck with his sword cane. He did not have time to draw the blade. For his whole body was being enveloped by hideous creatures.
Still the pond was a whirlpool of battle. When Ham's sword cane struck one of the flying beasts, the creature simply divided into separate parts. Each part became a new hydra-headed monster.
"Take them away!" shouted Ham. "Kill them, Long Tom!"
Ham imagined he could see Long Tom running toward him. Then scores of filthy, incredible serpents with many heads surrounded Long Tom. Ham saw the electrician vanish in the midst of the unbelievable attack.
"Run, Long Tom, run!" Ham screamed. "Look out! You'll be eaten alive!"
But instead of dashing to Long Tom's aid, Ham turned and darted in another direction. Above him came weird figures of the shape of scorpions. They were of prehistoric size. Ham could see only they were about to enclose him with their frightful pincers.
"Run Long Tom!" he yelled again.
With his natty attire, Ham slammed into the pool of stagnant water. He whipped about with his sword cane. His escape from the monsters of the air seemed to have been a mistake.
Ham lay down in the shallow, muddy pool. Park Avenue would have been greatly shocked. The impeccable Ham was smearing his face and head with the filthy mud.
"Take them away!" he yelled. "There are more of them coming!"
Ham hurled his sword cane at some monstrous shapes. Then he slapped at others with his bare hands. His blows seemed to pass through the great monsters. And each time there were two where one had been before.