"Robeson, Kenneth - Doc Savage 1937 11 - The Sea Angel" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

"Coast looks clear," he said. "But, Mr. Quietman, it would make it a lot simpler
if we had some idea of just who is threatening you. Who is this Sea Angel?"
The old gentlemanЧLeander L. Quietman, philanthropist, patron of arts, beloved
old gentleman who gave dollar bills to poor newsboys, according to the
newspapersЧshrugged and looked exasperated.
"IТve told you I do not know!" he said. "ItЧthe thingЧyour job is to protect me
from anything. Anything! Now, I am going in to have a look at the exhibit of the
Calhugi Indians which I am presenting to the museum."
As he entered the museum, Quietman looked just a bit more scared than any man
should be who does not know what he is scared of, except that it was a telephone
voice calling itself the "Sea Angel."

THE Calhugi Indian exhibit was located in an alcove off the enormous third-floor
hall which contained exhibits of other tribes of American, Canadian and Alaskan
Indians. There was not a single visitor or spectator in the room. The reason for
this was simple: It was seven oТclock in the morning, and the museum was not yet
open to visitors.
Leander L. Quietman, after having a guard go ahead to make sure the place was
empty of human presence, said, "You men may wait for me outside if you wish. I
prefer to admire this alone."
Then he walked toward the exhibit which he was donating.
The bodyguards loafed outside the door and indulged in their favorite pastime of
trying to figure out who or what was menacing Leander L. Quietman.
Meanwhile, Leander L. Quietman was walking toward his Calhugi Indian exhibit,
which was at the far end of the hall. The Calhugi Indians were probably as
little-known aborigines as ever chased a buffalo or paddled a birch-bark canoe.
Quietman drew a breath of admiration when he saw his exhibit, only just
completed by the finest restoration artists in the business. Experts in working
with wax.
It consisted of a sod house shaped like a beehive. At one side of the house
stood a small herd of six shaggy ponies. On one of these ponies sat a squat,
enormously thick and broad Indian.
This Indian had an amazing set of muscles, which was probably fortunate, because
he did not look as if he could possibly have many brains. Other Calhugi savages
were seated, cross-legged, around a camp fire, along with their squaws. They
were engaged in arrow-making and other pursuits.
Quietman heaved another sigh of admiration. He stepped under the velvet rope
surrounding the exhibit and advanced for a closer look at a wax Calhugi Indian,
who was making a tomahawk.
"A marvelous work of art!" gasped Leander L. Quietman, after a close look. "A
beautiful specimen of the human race!"
"My mother always thought so, too," said the Calhugi brave, who was supposed to
be made of wax.
The next instant, he had Quietman by the throat and had lifted his tomahawk.
"One peep," he said, "and IТll tomahawk you plenty!"

POOR old Leander L. Quietman became pale, and began to shake.
The Calhugi Indian sitting on the wax pony got off. His legs were stiff, and he
staggered about ludicrously.
"Damn this razorback horse!" he groaned.