"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 106 - Peril in the North" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

Doc put him on the ground. Browder was unconscious. The effect of the nerve pressure was about the
same as a knockout blow, although senselessness would grip him longer; and there would be no great
feeling of discomfort after he revived.

The bronze man followed the girl. He was not breathing hard. He was not excited; at least he showed no
signs of excitement.



DOC traveled fast. The lay of the ground was unfamiliar, but the girl was still within hearing, still running.
He pursued the sound.

They left the alley, went across an open lot which was studded with brush and trees. Doc heard limbs
crackling under the girlтАЩs feet several times.

She reached a street. A car engine started. The motor came to life suddenly with an urgent roar, and
gears gnashed iron teeth.

Doc put on speed. He whipped out of the trees, felt a sidewalk underfoot and reached the street.

The car was plunging away. Its headlights were not on, but the machine was a dark shape like an
elephant with no legs against a distant street light.

Sprinting madly, Doc got his hands on the cold, slick metal back of the machine. There was no spare tire.
He located the gadget which held the license plate. It was fragile. But under that was the handle which
locked the turtleback, and the handle was stronger. And the bumpers projected some distance.

He got on the bumper. It was no small feat in gymnastics to do so. And he could not remain there long,
particularly if the driver went over rough streets.

He tugged out his handkerchief, swung down and jammed it into the end of the exhaust pipe. Almost at
once, the car began to slow as the exhaust gas crowded back into the machine and choked the motor.

Before the car had fully stopped, he was around to the front and had jerked open the door on the
driverтАЩs side.

The fat girl glared at him.
"The very idea!" she said. "What is the idea, anyway?"

Doc SavageтАЩs flake-gold eyes narrowed. This was not the girl he had started out to pursue. This one was
older, had a different voice, and there was certainly nothing comparable in their figures. This girl would
weigh considerably more than two hundred pounds.

Like all fat girls, she looked jolly. But there was nothing jolly about the swing she aimed at DocтАЩs jaw. He
barely got out of the way.

"You . . . you woman-frightener!" yelled the fat girl.

Doc said, "Stop that!"