"052 (B075) - The Land of Fear (1937-06) - Harold Davis" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

Monk and Ham entered Doc Savage's offices, still arguing. Instinctively, they glanced about the room.
A small colored light was showing on a panel, directly over the bronze giant's desk.
Without a word, the two darted into the next room, and stopped before a strange-looking machine.
"Doc has found something!" Monk rumbled, excitedly.
A CASUAL observer might have wondered whether Doc had found anything or not. The bronze man was standing in a maze of passageways of the crazy house, many miles from his office, his gold-flecked eyes alert.
Cautiously, he opened one of the many doors and peered through. Three men were standing there. Their bearing was arrogant, but uneasiness was also manifest in their manner.
Doc closed the door noiselessly, started back down the hallway. He moved slowly, mentally locating all the doors and passageways Gats had mentioned when he'd told how to get out of the house. He would have moved much more swiftly had he seen the scarred face that looked after him.
Costa Tria had once been in a mine explosion. It had left his features terribly marked, but no more marked than his soul. If there was a good trait about him, none of his companions had ever discovered it.
Greens Gordon had found him in a breadline, had hired him. Greens was not a philanthropist; he hired only men who were as evil as he wasЧand that covered plenty of ground.
During prohibition, Greens had been one of the leading offenders. He'd risen high in the ranks of gangdom through the use of the "ride" and of dexterous Tommy men.
Starting with a lower East Side gang, he'd reached the top of his professionЧand that profession was making easy money, no matter how many murders were involved.
With repeal, Greens changed his tactics, but not his ways. He'd gone into racketsЧnot always big racketsЧbut preferably those that were fairly safe and netted a good return. Always, he'd kept his eyes out for the chance to make millions.
Not even Greens Gordon trusted Costa Tria, but he was a good man to have around. He instilled fear in recalcitrant members of the gang; he respected no one except his chief.
And not always his chief, as Greens Gordon would have understood if he'd seen Tria's cautious approach to the room where Virginia Jettmore was supposed to be bound and helpless.
Tria's scarred features were split in an evil grin; his close-set eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he saw that no one was before the girl's room.
Doc Savage repassed the room where Greens Gordon and his companions were talking. He paused briefly, then walked on.
No sound broke the stillness. The house might have been deserted. Few could have realized the number of gunmen who were hidden here.
The bronze giant stopped suddenly and tested the air. Not even a wild animal had more keen olfactory organs than Doc Savage, thanks to the bronze man's scientific system of exercises. He caught an odor that had not been there a few minutes before.
Without change of expression, Doc's speed became that of a sprinter. He burst into the lobby where he and Gats had been standing guard. No one was there, but the alien odor was stronger. The door leading to the girl's room was closed.
Doc thrust it open, paused motionless on the threshold. A small figure in wide flaring skirts lay on the floor. Gats had not moved.
But the girl was gone!
THERE was no sign of a fight in the room; only the fact that the acrid odor was stronger showed that any one besides the girl and Gats had ever been there.
But that was enough. Doc stepped back in the passageway, listened intently. Nothing could be heard and there were many doors which might have been used in a flight.
The passageway seemed the most logical course, however. Doc followed it rapidly. Occasionally, he caught a faint smell of the alien odor and knew he was on the right path.
He increased his speed, ducked under low-hanging arches, through long, narrow aisles.
Faintly, the man of bronze heard voices. One was whining and servile, with an underlying threatening note.
The other was that of Virginia Jettmore.
Doc's frame seemed huge in the clothes of the giant. Tremendous tendons almost split the seams of the coat he wore.
Then he threw a door open, flashed into a room.
Costa Tria knew doom when he saw it. He knew that this man with piercing, gold-flecked eyes was not "Bunko." He knew that his scheme had failed. For Tria, while he didn't know why Gordon had ordered the girl kidnaped, knew the gangster wanted her badly enough that he'd pay much money to have her returned if she disappeared.
The scar-faced man had intended to shake down his own chief. He couldn't do that now, but there was one thing he could still do.
Virginia Jettmore gave a low cry of joy. She had been tricked by Costa Tria, and had feared she was not to escape from him.
WHEN Doc had left her alone in the room, her terror had returned. The giant who had cut her bonds had told her he was Doc Savage, and she had no real reason to think that he wasn't. But he hadn't looked as he had when he'd appeared at the hotel, and his actions had been suspicious.
As she'd stood in indecision, a man had opened the doorЧa man with a hideously scarred face. Automatically, Virginia Jettmore had lifted the gun she held in one hand.
Costa Tria hadn't known she didn't know how to use the gun. He had given what he'd thought was a reassuring grin.
"It's all right, seёorita," he had whispered. "Fear not. You are surrounded by enemies, but I will save you."
Virginia had hesitated and Costa Tria had leaped. Before she could cry out, a dirty hand had been pressed over her mouth; clawing talons had yanked the revolver from her hand and she had been forced to accompany her grinning captor.
But Costa Tria was no longer grinning now. His face was a mask of rage. The bronze giant leaped toward him.
The scar-faced man took advantage of the one second he had in which to act. In that second before Doc Savage's relentless hand snapped up, knocking him unconscious, he moved. For Costa Tria knew more about this crazy house than any one else. He knew every room and every trap.
He stepped back and crushed a heel down hard on a small square of the floor.
Alarm bells crashed out deafeningly. Pointers on certain well-concealed, but always watched alarm boards, showed the room from which the signal had been given.
Chapter VI. DEATH TRAP
VIRGINIA JETTMORE was breathing fast, and fear had returned to her face.
"HeЧhe tricked me!" she gasped. "Now they'll kill us both!"
"Wait!" Doc ordered crisply.
It was growing dusk. Already, it was hard to see without electric lights. The bronze man jumped to a window, pushed it up, and looked out. The next instant, the girl gave a startled exclamation.
Doc's body had vanished out the window. Virginia Jettmore ran to the opening and peered out after him. Dimly, she could see him moving up the side of the building.
To her it appeared there was nothing he could cling to, but Doc's powerful fingers sought out crevices and sills and swung his body up almost as rapidly as if he were mounting a ladder.
A moment more and the man of bronze had reached the roof, vanished from view. Almost before Virginia knew it, he had reappeared, descending as swiftly as he'd climbed.
"Come," Doc said.