"066 (B058) - The Munitions Master (1938-08) - Harold Davis" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

Across the street, Carloff Traniv watched. His hand was steady as he held the binoculars to his eyes.



"The famous Doc Savage!" he muttered sardonically. "But then, he won his fame before he encountered Carloff Traniv."



His lips split in a grin as he saw Monk and Ham forced back by the crowd they sought to get through. He saw a hairy figure -- Chemistry -- fighting hopelessly beside Doc's aids. Ham was using his sword cane, but lost it in the fight finally.



Traniv grunted with satisfaction as the glasses picked up the scurrying figure of a small, thin-faced man. He appeared pleased, too, when he saw two men in tattered gendarme uniforms fight their way to one side.



"And if Doc Savage is the man they say he is, he also will contrive to escape," he said softly. "If he does -- "



His eyes caught the figures of a girl and a man, pressed back on the outskirts of the crowd, and his grin broadened.



The faces of the girl and the man were grim. The girl was slender, scarcely over five feet tall, and had been called beautiful. Her figure was one that had drawn raves from all who had seen it. And since she displayed that figure at a night club every evening, many had seen it.



It might have been only coincidence that the night club where she danced was frequented mostly by army officers and government employees.



The man beside her supposedly was her dancing partner. He was tall and lithe, but there were lines about his eyes that made him appear older than he was.



The girl had her pocketbook half opened. One hand was inside. Her fist was wrapped tight about a small, very efficient automatic.



The man's gun was in his side coat pocket. His fingers also were firm about the butt of the weapon.



Their eyes were glued on the struggling heap where Doc Savage had last been seen.



And at that moment, radios in many countries were blaring their shocking message.