"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 037 - The Metal Master" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

"The landinтАЩ of you in the States will тАШave to wait until this job is done," TopsтАЩl pointed out.

"You have your Tester-day today," said Punning. "Sure."

The truth was that TopsтАЩl had never met "CX," and did not know whether that personage was man, woman or
organization. TopsтАЩl did not worry on that score, because "CX" had paid well in the past, and that was all that
was really necessary.

Time passed.

A sailor crouched on the cabin top. He was wearing a telephone headset, and wires ran from this to an
amplifier box, thence up the mast to a very modern a├лrial listening device attached to the mast top. TopsтАЩl
had installed this plane-finder, after the coast guard started using planes.

"Plane cominтАЩ!" yelled the sailor at the listener.

TopsтАЩl Hertz stood up, listened, heard the plane with his unaided ear after a bit, and was out of the shade of
the mainsail like a scared cat. He ripped orders. Preparations got under way, such as had not been made
already.

And Punning Parker came ambling up out of the cabin.



PUNNING PARKER was something of a character. A stranger, looking at him for the first time, could not
have seen much to recommend him. But he had a lot. He was not tall, and he was thin and pallid and
weak-looking. At times, when he was just standing around, he would stagger as if he had gotten weak and
were going to fall down. He looked as if he were no earthly good. He had nothing visible to recommend him.

"This must be the blarsted plane cominтАЩ," said TopsтАЩl Hertz. "Get the bloody Vickers ready!"

The descriptive "bloody" was a favorite with TopsтАЩl, but it particularly fitted that Vickers, which was a machine
gun that could spray death at several hundred doses per minute.

With a gusty buzz, the plane came down in the foggy sky. It leveled out and circled a hundred feet or so
above the schoonerтАЩs mast tops. The masts projected above the fog, which was only a thin layer. The plane
had done well to find the schooner.

The plane was a cabin job fitted with pontoons. Not a large aircraft, but a fast one.

"Get set!" yelled TopsтАЩl.

TopsтАЩl had a shock of white hair which stood up straight and which had given him his name. The hair did look
something like a topsail.

"
Let тАШer bleed!" he screamed.
The Vickers "bled." It ran red at the nose and poured out lead and noise and shook itself and shook the men
handling it. Empty cartridges showered the deck, for, in the general haste, there had been no catch-bag
fastened to the ejector.