"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 040 - Haunted Ocean" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

aside.

"If I am not mistaken, this is a gun for spreading poison gas," he said, quietly. "And be careful, Long Tom.
DonтАЩt touch that for a moment."
The bronze man had taken a flat, ebony box from the dead manтАЩs inner pocket. It was a large box to have
been thus carried. A clasp appeared to open by the touching of a spring. "Long Tom" had been about to
unsnap the clasp.

Long Tom, or Major Thomas J. Roberts, one of the worldтАЩs best-known electricians, had been helping operate
some of the radio instruments.

Doc picked up the flat box.

"I believe this should have special attention," he advised. "Of all this collection of death-dealing devices, I
suspect this is the most deadly."

Doc filled a shallow glass receptacle with a clear liquid. This was only pure alcohol. DocтАЩs sleeves were
stripped from his forearms. Tendons of cable-like strength played under his smooth bronze skin.

Immersing the flat ebony case, his thumb flicked the spring of the hasp. The case divided. Its opening was
accompanied by a sibilant, sinister hissing.

"Holy cow!" ejaculated big Renny. "ItтАЩs a snakeтАФone of them cobras!"



THE darting, writhing splash of color springing from the flat, ebony case was less than a foot in length. But its
head and neck expanded enormously.

"It is the most poisonous of all the cobra species," stated Doc. "ItтАЩs a hamadryad, which does not reach great
size."

The effect of the alcohol was almost instant. The death-dealing hamadryad hissed only once. It struck at the
bronze hand which had released it. But DocтАЩs movement had been quicker than the cobraтАЩs dart.

Professor Callus gasped a little. It had seemed as if the snake must have buried its fangs in the bronzed
skin.

But the cobra stretched its length and fell back. Then it stretched inertly. The alcohol had overpowered it.

Professor Callus blinked a little and his big head bobbed up and down.

"Professor Jasson must have been overtaken by some form of killing dementia," he commented. "Yet why
would he be coming to your headquarters, Mr. Savage?"

Doc Savage, as was his habit when some great idea was beginning to take shape in his marvelous brain,
said nothing. He moved back beside the corpse on the couch in the library.

The arms of the dead man were sticking out stiffly. His legs were rigid. The face was a cold, blood-drained
mask. The eyes were open and staring.