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

elbowing to get closer to the rostrum, although great loudspeakers of a public-address system were
scattered everywhere, and should guarantee all hearing what was to be said.

"Puerco!" gritted a man who had been elbowed. "Pig! Why do you shove?"

"I want to see the bronze man at close range," said the one who had done the elbowing, unabashed.

That seemed to be the thought every one had. They wanted to see the bronze man.

Back of the speakers' rostrum towered a structure which, once it was completed, would undoubtedly be
the largest building in Antofagasta. It was possibly half finished. Its architecture was plain and substantial.
A great sign hanging over the freshly mortared bricks read:

EL HONOR DE DOC SAVAGE

In case there should be any one unable to read Spanish, the legend was elaborated below in English:

THIS FREE HOSPITAL ERECTED IN HONOR OF DOC SAVAGE

The building was being dedicated. The crowd was here for the ceremony, and to see the bronze man.

The bronze man was Doc Savage, that giant, mysterious worker of miracles about whom all Chile was
agog.

IN make-up, the crowd ranged from austere grandees of Castilian descent, who had driven to the
ceremony in shiny American limousines, to stocky brown Aymaran Indians from far back in the Andes
mountains, who probably had come to town driving a string of llamas. The resemblance of these latter to
Asiatics was startling.

Saturday Loo was an Asiatic, so he passed among them without drawing attention. To be exact,
Saturday Loo was a Tibetan.

As many as one fourth of the Tibetan men become monks or holy men, with a very strict code of morals.
Saturday Loo had never been tempted in that direction. A more thorough rogue than he could not be
found between the Himalaya Mountains and the Gobi Desert.

Saturday Loo made directly for a cluster of poncho-clad men who hardly seemed to share the
enthusiasm of the crowd about the bronze man. These also resembled Aymaran Indians, but were swart
Asiatics.

"My children," Saturday Loo hailed them grandly, "make less long the expressions on your faces. One
would think you were going to your respective funerals."

"If there should be an error, our fate may be exactly that," mumbled a man.

"Aye," agreed another. "I have beard that this bronze man, this Doc Savage, is very dangerous."

"They say those who molest the bronze man disappear and are never heard from again," offered a third.

"He is indeed what Yankees call 'hell-on-wheels.'"