"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 097 - The All-White Elf" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

The one-hundred-and-eighty-grain bullet had a muzzle energy of twenty-nine hundred and fifteen
foot-pounds. It tore through the sheet metal and ripped the safety switch off the inside, opening the
circuit. The opening of the safety circuit instantly cut the current out of the motors at the top of the shaft,
and the cage stopped.

The moment he was sure the elevator had halted, Haatz ran for the stairway. He took the steps in a series
of downward jumps, holding the rifle ready.

The elevator had stopped between two floors, in such a position that, when the doors were opened,
there was a crack at the top through which a man could crawl to freedom, although the crack was very
narrow and difficult to reach.
Haatz saw the man crawling out of the elevator. He saw this without being noticed. He hesitated, half
lifting the rifle. Then he changed his mind.

Running down another flight of stairs, and out of the door, Haatz looked about for a hiding place. There
was only one car parked in the block, a black coup├й. Haatz started to climb into the machine; then it
occurred to him that the car might belong to his quarry. Smitty had said he had a car waiting.

Haatz tried the baggage compartment in the back. It was open, and it was roomy. He climbed in with his
rifle, and lowered the lid. To keep it from locking, he jammed his handkerchief into the slot which the
lock tongue normally entered. This not only kept the lid from locking, but caused it to remain open a
crack, through which he could keep a watch.

Grim curiosity was causing Haatz to do what he was doing. A stranger had come to him and lied to him,
apparently in hopes of decoying him into the country. Haatz was going to trail him.

Haatz wanted to know why. What was going on? At heart, he was a man who liked excitement, although
he looked meek and, he well knew, a little like a pink pig. His fondest memories were of his army days,
the war, of a hitch he had served with the Villa revolutionists in Mexico. These things were in his youth,
and he did not talk about them much any more. People did not believe him. No one could think, after
looking at him, that he had done deeds of daring and peril, and would like to do them again.

It was luck that put him in hiding in the back of SmittyтАЩs car.

Smitty dashed out of the apartment house a moment later, dived into the machine and drove it away.

THE car went fast. The bouncing made dust rise up and get in HaatzтАЩs soft pink nostrils. He ground a
finger against his upper lip desperately, but in spite of that remedy, he had to sneeze twice. Luckily, the
car made so much noise that he was not heard.

Soon the car traveled at a more leisurely pace. And eventually it stopped. Through the crack around the
edge of the lid, Haatz watched Smitty cross the sidewalk with nervous haste and enter a drugstore.

The drugstore had a side door. Haatz reached that. He held the rifle straight up and down at his side, so
that it was as inconspicuous as possible, and eased inside the door.

Smitty was in one of a bank of three telephone booths.

Haatz stepped into the adjacent booth without being noticed. He could hear some of what was said.