"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 039 - The Seven Agate Devils" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

Doc Savage?"

The first man absently touched his lips, straightening them. They remained straight, due to the weird
condition of his facial muscles.

"There is too much at stake to take chances," he said, "Sure, weтАЩll have to kill him!"

A new sound came into the night air. It might have been a big swarm of metal bumble-bees in the distance.
The crowd by the administration building milled more violently, surging toward the confining rail. Faces turned
upward. The distant buzz became louder, a deep-throated drone.

The airport searchlights darted up like great rapiers, probing the black belly of the night. The tip of one of
these beams picked up a silvery glint. Play of all the searchlights concentrated on that point. A huge strange
shape began to take on form and outline.

It was the world-circling dirigible.

The airship descended. A ground crew laid hold of its dangling hand lines, and it was snugged down to a
temporary mooring. Pandemonium broke loose. The crowd surged through perspiring police lines.

It became evident that many of the spectators were interested in more than a mere glimpse of the airship.
They wanted to see some one else, an individual of whom they had heard a great deal. The throng surrounded
the dirigible passengers as they began to alight. These latter wore ordinary business garments, for the
dirigible accommodations were the height of comfort and luxury.

Whenever a passenger of more than ordinary size appeared, a roar went up from the crowd.

"ThereтАЩs Doc Savage!"

A moment later, they would find they were mistaken.

Men garbed as the dirigible crew got little attention. It was easy to sort these men out. They wore rather
unusual cover-all suitsтАФa special stratosphere garment, with attached hood.

Thus it happened that the crowd overlooked a little group of three figures, clad in the stratosphere suits, that
moved across the field to the operations office. One of the trio was short, immensely broad, with long simian
arms which dangled hairy hands below his knees. The other figure was slender, of medium height, and
carried one article oddly at variance with his a├лrial garb: a thin, black cane.

The third member was far the most dominating of the trio. His size was remarkable. The stratosphere suit
hood was over his head, and there was a flap with goggle attachment down over his features, concealing
them completely.

It was possible that, among the spectators, only one individual recognized the trio. This was the fellow with
the unlovely hybrid face.

"There goes Doc Savage and his two aids!" he hissed at his stupid-looking assistant. "LetтАЩs get our job done!"

Doc Savage entered the airport operations office and lifted the goggle flap of the stratosphere suit and
chucked back the hood. Perhaps the most striking thing about the features thus revealed was their bronze