"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 012 - The Man Who Shook the Earth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

The night air was rather chilly. It was getting colder. Overhead, clouds were matted. Indications were that it
would be a bitter night, with a probability of snow before long.

Monk came to a park a few blocks from the skyscraper. In the chilly, windswept center of the park, a long
wooden shack had been erected. The brightly lighted interior of this gave off the aroma of coffee, doughnuts,
and sandwiches. From the shack a long line of men stretched.

Monk calculated the length of the line. There must be about four hundred men in it. There were very few of
them who were not shivering with the nightтАЩs chill.

Monk continued on past the line, to an all-night bank. When he came out of the bank, he was carrying five
hundred one-dollar bills. He had exchanged VelvetтАЩs bribe money for them.

Monk went to the man who was ladling out food to the breadline. A few words, and the money exchanged
hands.

Five minutes later, each down-and-outer who passed in the breadline was getting a crisp dollar bill. To most
of them, a dollar was a young fortune. It meant a bed for the night, a meal or two tomorrow.

A close observer might have detected salty drops of gratitude in a number of eyes. Other skeptical souls
walked off wondering loudly, but happily, if the dollar bills were genuine.

The grin on MonkтАЩs simian features was even wider as he went to a near-by drug store and entered a phone
booth.

Consulting the phone directory, Monk got the number of the Times-Flash. Velvet had said he worked for this
sheet. Monk called the newspaper, and got the city editor on the wire.

"IтАЩd like to talk to Mr. Velvet." Monk was merely checking up on VelvetтАЩs story.

"Who?" growled the city editor.

"Your reporter named Velvet."

"ThereтАЩs nobody by that name working on this paper," the city editor said shortly. "Furthermore, there never
has been."

Monk lost his smile. "Have you got a reporter trying to interview Doc Savage? Give me the truth about it. This
is important."

"We sent no reporter to see Doc Savage," the city editor said firmly.




Chapter II. THE MYSTERIOUS JOHN ACRE
MONK broke his connection. His anthropoid features were a study. He scratched among the reddish bristles
which stuck up straight on top of his head.

Outside, a newsboy passed. He was piping in a cold-shrilled voice. "Earthquake! All about the big