"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 013 - Meteor Menace" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

one thing he disliked was playing the public hero. He had sent Ham to make apologies. Doc had come,
to remain in the background, because he wanted to be present when the hospital construction got its final
impetus. That hospital would save the lives of many people in the course of its existence, and such
projects were close to Doc's heart.

Because the young woman's captors had been handiest, Doc had employed his hand first against them.

Very little time had elapsed. Monk and Ham could hardly yet have been carried away. From the top of
the loud- speaker support, Doc soon discovered them. The Tibetans were carrying Monk, Ham, and
their own senseless comrades toward rows of parked cars.

The crowd was between Doc and the gang. To work through that pond of humanity would take time,
even for Doc's prodigious strength.

Conductors of the public-address system were telephone wire. Probably originally intended for use in the
Andes, where storms are terrific and snowfall great, the wire was of a heavy gauge.

The metal strands would" hold Doc's weight. He glided outward over the throng.

Most tight-wire artists use long balancing poles. Only a few, highly expert, maintain equilibrium by
manipulating their arms. Doc Savage, however, used his arms hardly at all, which showed remarkable
skill.

The throng ceased its milling. In a few seconds, almost all eyes were upon the bronze giant who moved
so easily upon the wires overhead.

Doc reached the edge of the crowd. The distance to the ground was a drop which most men would have
balked at taking. Doc took it easily, enormous leg sinews absorbing the jar.

He ran for the parked cars, doubling low and traveling swiftly. He could hear the cursing of the captors of
Monk and Ham. Doc understood their language. The Tibetans were hunting a car which was not locked.

Doc had a plan. He kept moving at tremendous speed, endeavoring to get ahead of his quarry. Car
thieves operated in Antofagasta just as they did in Kansas City or Denver. The majority of these parked
cars were probably locked. The Tibetans would have trouble finding a conveyance.

Doc angled to the left and, due to his great speed, got ahead of the gang. His eyes roved and soon found
the type of car which he wanted one with an extremely large trunk on the rear. It was an open phaeton -
most machines in these tropic lands were of the open variety.

Doc made a mental note of the license number. In case the car met destruction in the plan which was
contemplated, he intended to reimburse the owner for its full value.

The bronze man went to the trunk. It was locked. He caught the fastener, tugged, and there was a
snapping sound as it broke.

The trunk held dried llama hides, old ponchos, fishing tackle, and a tent. Doc lifted the stuff and dumped
it in the handiest adjacent car. Then he ran around in front.

The phaeton was secured with a lock which controlled not only the ignition, but the gear shift as well.