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

"Now you'll be all right," he promised. "Come on, Chemistry, we've gotta find Ham."
Jane Davidson got into the car out of the rain. She kept a tight hold on the stubby pistol. Monk loped across the railroad toward the hill. Habeas Corpus did not seem to mind being toted by one long ear.
The tailless baboon grumbled and grunted. But he followed. His ambling movement was not much different from that of Monk. The baboon had sense. He hunched ahead of Monk.
In the rocks above the tracks, the baboon halted. He pounded his hairy breast and whined much like a human baby. Monk called Ham's name, but got no reply.
The tailless baboon had picked up some object. He was hitting a rock with it. There was a metallic sound. Monk used the powerful generator flashlight.
Chemistry was whipping the hilted half of Ham's broken sword blade against a rock. Monk found the remainder of the sword and the cane sheath.
The big chemist whipped out the superfiring pistol which looked like a small drum with a tube sticking out of one side. He called and moved with infinite caution among the rocks.
The stones showed no footprints. Monk attempted to use chemical tracing powder, but the rain had washed out possible marks.
The chemist produced a small, flat box. When he moved a switch, nothing apparently happened. But in the invisible ray of black light emanating from this box some queer marks appeared on the hard ground.
These looked like the prints of a man's heels. They showed where Ham had come up the hill. Where he had stood between the rocks, the marks were all mixed up. They glowed with blue light.
This was simply a substance contained in the spongy rubber heels of Ham's shoes. It was one of several chemicals which fluoresced under the black light.
"Howlin' calamities!" squealed Monk. "Ham didn't walk away from here!"
This was apparent. The imprints of Ham's heels ceased abruptly in the confusion of marks where the broken sword had been picked up.
Monk loped back and forth among the rocks. The tailless baboon was even more excited. But from that one point in the rocks, Monk could find no trail.
Perhaps Monk would have remained, searching all night. But from the highway below came the strident whine of a radio. The whine became two words.
"HamЧMonk! HamЧMonk!"
With a last, fruitless look around, Monk ran back down the hill. The baboon followed, pounding his breast and chattering.
JANE DAVIDSON was huddled miserably in the seat of the car when Monk returned.
"The radio's been calling you," she said. "It couldn't be possible, but I'm sure it's Doc Savage's voice."
The radio speaker under the dashboard of the car still whined out the call for Ham and Monk. It sounded like the voice of Doc Savage.
Monk immediately tuned in with a reply.
"HamЧMonk!" came the order. "You will proceed at once to the Spargrove Laboratories. Renny and Johnny will join us there."
Monk gave an O. K. to the summons. But his homely face was twisted like a crossword puzzle.
"That couldn't have been anybody but Doc," he stated. "But you think Doc was with you in that smashed car. And now Ham has been grabbed!"
"Ham has been seized?" said Jane Davidson. "I don't believe it! And if that was Doc Savage on the radio, then he had some one else bring me out here and try to kill me on that crossing! I'll bet Ham went away with whoever brought me out here!"
Monk glared at the girl. The big chemist liked most pretty women. But Jane Davidson was plainly rubbing his fur the wrong way.
"Doc!" said Monk over the radio. "Ham's been grabbed out here! One of your carsЧ"
Doc's voice cut in on the other end of the broadcast.
"I know all about the car. Ham will be all right. You will do as directed. Bring with you the young woman who was in the wreck at the crossing!"
Monk let out a gasp. Jane Davidson spoke with a sneer.
"So, your wonderful Doc Savage didn't have anything to do with trying to kill me?" she jeered. "You'd better do as you're told, and if you make one wrong move, I'll be driving this car back alone!"
Jane Davidson jabbed the stubby automatic emphatically into Monk's ribs. Monk was too puzzled to even grunt.
Chapter IV. MISSING GLOBES
AS Monk headed his car reluctantly toward the Spargrove Laboratories, another small car was reaching the locked doors of the tomblike structure. From this small vehicle climbed an odd figure.
The man was short of stature. He wore a shabby, hairy overcoat. The fuzzy hair of this coat seemed to continue where it touched his neck. The hair on the man's head was thick and bushy.
The man wore what once was known as a mutton-chop beard. This stuck out belligerently on both sides of his face. It made his face look smaller and funnier than it would have been. It was small and funny, anyway.
The man's little eyes jumped around under bushy brows. He came to the group around the small locked door of the Spargrove Laboratories.
"What's this? What's this?" he sputtered. "Who called the police to interfere with my work? Where's Jane? If you wanted in, why didn't you get hold of John Corbin?"
"Well! Well! Well!" gabbled Inspector Higgins. "Wasn't you told this John Corbin went bugs an' tried to bump an express train offa the track? An' this infernal trap of yours murdered one of the railroad bulls, an' you can't be runnin' any place that won't open its doors when duly constituted authority wants to get in!"
"John Corbin's been killed?" said the hairy man. "I'm Professor Spargrove, of course. Well, why didn't you have the young woman or Doc Savage let you in? They're both inside."
"Yeah?" rasped Inspector Higgins, hopping around. "An' what other crooked contraptions you got in there? Unlock this door before we get a few sticks of dynamite an' blast hell out of it!"
Despite the news about John Corbin's sudden and untimely end, Professor Lanidus Spargrove had a will of his own.
"I want to see John Corbin's body," he announced. "Then perhaps I will open the door, if Doc Savage consents."
"You'll perhaps?" yelled Inspector Higgins. "If Doc Savage consents? I'm representin' the law in this end of the county!"
"Let me see John Corbin's body," said Professor Spargrove mildly. "I will then take up the matter of opening the door. I don't believe I'd try dynamite if I were you, inspector. It is possible there are some elements in the building which might cause you inconvenience."
"Inconvenience?" shouted Inspector Higgins. "Two bump-offs already, an' this crooked dump all locked up, an' you talk about inconvenience! What inconvenience, Professor Spargrove, if that's your right name an' not some alias?"
Professor Spargrove was nervous and excited, but he still spoke calmly.
"In other words, an attempt to blow those doors probably would set off an explosive that would make TNT seem like a penny firecracker," he stated.
A few of the railroad men were beginning to ease away from the spot. The mild deputy coroner spoke.
"Whether it would blast this place or not, inspector, I don't believe I'd try crossing up any property belonging to Doc Savage."