"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 026 - The Spook Legion" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

Incertainties now crown themselves assured, and peaceтАФтАЭ

The associate pilot straightened.

тАЬWhat the hell?тАЭ he demanded.

тАЬShakespeare,тАЭ declared the plump man. тАЬThe supreme dramatist, my good fellow. The supreme
dramatist! And a very good friend he was indeed.тАЭ The man winked and crossed two fingers. тАЬHe and I
were like that.тАЭ

The pilot smiled slightly and his weather-beaten features assumed a knowing look. He winked at the
other passengers, then dropped an arm over the fat man's shoulder.

тАЬSo you and Shakespeare were buddies,тАЭ he said, with the manner of one agreeing with a person he
considers insane. тАЬTell me about it, mister. I've always wanted to meet someone who knew
Shakespeare.тАЭ

тАЬShakespeare was the supreme dramatist,тАЭ said the fat man. тАЬKnowing him was a pleasure, a supreme
pleasure. Indeed it was!тАЭ

тАЬSure, sure,тАЭ said the pilot.
The aviator thrust the portly one down in his seat, then sat on the chair arm and encouraged him to talk
ramblingly of Shakespeare, who had been dead hundreds of years. The plane swung down toward the
landing field.

The passengers had been interested in the little drama. Two or three had crowded close, among these the
big fellow who looked like a prizefighter. He had looked closely at the empty seat into which the gun had
been discharged.

There were no holes or tears in the seat where a bullet might have struck.

The prizefighter individual went back to his seat. Seated in such a position that no one could see his
hands, he opened one hand and examined the object which it held. This was the fat man's handkerchief,
the one which had been wrapped around the gun muzzle. It had been filched from the owner with
consummate cleverness.

There were holes in the handkerchief, undoubtedly holes made by leaden bullets ripping through.



THE plane landed without event, and the portly man arose to get his baggage and disembark with the
rest of the passengers. But the co-pilot grasped his arm firmly and requested, тАЬPlease wait.тАЭ

The plump man's next words were not nearly as inane as his earlier ramblings.

тАЬWhat for?тАЭ he demanded.

тАЬShakespeare wants to see you,тАЭ said the flier.

It looked as if the portly one was on the point of venting an explosive, тАЬHell!тАЭ but he did not. Instead, he