"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 011 - Brand of the Werewolf" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

STRANGELY enough, it was the most unhealthy-looklng fellow in the group who was first to revive. To
all appearances, this man was easily the weakling of the crowd. He was undersized, slender, only fairly
set up, with a none too healthy complexion. He had pale hair and pale eyes. He looked as if he might
have lived most of his life in a dark and mouldy cellar.

This was "Long Tom" Roberts. Long Tom - he was occasionally known as Major Thomas J. Roberts -
was an electrical expert. "A wizard of the juice!" - men of his own profession declared.

Long Tom frowned blankly at the table, on which a chessboard stood. Then be peered at his three
motionless fellows.

"What kind of a game are those guys playing?" he demanded weakly.

"Game, bell!" Renny boomed. "Listen, Long Tom, we busted in here and found you four birds all spread
out. What happened?"

Long Tom considered. "I don't know."

"You don't - " Renny waved his huge hand. "Come on! Snap out of it!"

"We went to sleep," Long Tom groaned. "We just felt drowsy all of a sudden, then went to sleep."

"You have no idea what caused it?" Doc questioned.

"Nope."

Doc continued his resuscitation efforts on the other men. "Ham" was the second individual to awaken.
Ham was famed for two things: he was one of the cleverest lawyers Harvard had ever turned out, and he
was a snappy dresser. Tailors often followed Brigadier General Theodore Marley Brooks down the
street, to see clothes being worn as they should be worn. He was a slender man, quick moving, and a
fast thinker.

It chanced that, as Ham's eyes opened, the first figure he saw was homely, gorillalike Monk.

"I can't be in heaven!" he grinned feebly.

Renny snorted. Ham was always making some wisecrack at Monk's expense. To listen to the
sharp-tongued lawyer, one would think nothing would have given him more delight than to see Monk
burned at the stake.

This peeve of Ham's dated back to the Great War - to an event which had earned him his nickname.
Thinking to have fun, Ham had taught Monk some French words which were highly insulting, telling him
they were the proper expressions with which to flatter a Frenchman. Monk had addressed the words to
a French general, and landed in the guardhouse.

But very shortly after Monk's release, Ham was hailed up on a charge of stealing hams. He was
convicted; somebody had planted the evidence. Ham was mortally certain Monk had framed him. But to
this day, be had not been able to prove it.