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

Several more of the supposedly wax redskins now got up, and two came out of the
sod beehive. One of these carried a rope ladder.
The squat, muscular fellow who had been on the horseЧhe had an enormous stomach
of the type commonly called pot-bellyЧnow took charge.
"The window," he said. "And no more wise cracks. Them bodyguards may hear us."
"O. K., Boscoe," the fake Indians agreed, and grabbed Leander L. Quietman.
"W-what does this m-mean?" Quietman gulped.
"It means," said the tubby "Boscoe," "that we had to try this crazy gag to get
our hands on you. You didnТt think that because you walked around in a swarm of
cops and bodyguards we wouldnТt get you, did you? Grabbing you is the only way
to save you from the Sea Angel."
Quietman choked, "S-saving me f-from the Sea Angel?"
"Believe it or not, and strange as it seems," Boscoe agreed.
Quietman moaned, "Y-you are m-making a mistake!"
"The hell we are!" Boscoe grinned.
The men proceeded with their saving. They taped QuietmanТs lips, fastened his
wrists with wider tape, then led him to a window. One opened the window. Tying
Quietman to an end of the rope ladder, they lowered him.
During this operation, Boscoe went back to the Calhugi Indian exhibit and
pilfered. He stuffed his pockets with stone knives, flint arrowheads and several
pairs of moccasins.
Boscoe seemed to forget everything else in his absorption with the looting. He
grabbed two or three bows, two tomahawks, then began to tuck arrows under an
arm. He added a long spear. Indeed, he seemed bent on taking everything in
sight.
Several of the men were now down the ladder, and they had untied old Leander L.
Quietman and were holding him. The others descended. Boscoe was last.
BoscoeТs descent was something of burlesque comedy. He had stuffed his Indian
garments with everything they would hold, and had both arms full, which left no
hands free to handle the rope ladder.
It was with the greatest reluctance that he surrendered an armload of his loot,
and climbed down.
"Whatcha gonna do with that stuff?" a man gritted.
"Oh, I dunno," Boscoe said vaguely. "IТll think of something."

THE Museum of Natural History originally started with one building, and others
were added. There are alleyways and courts between these structures. The men had
descended into one of the courts, from which an alley led to a side street.
They got in motion, two of them guiding Leander L. Quietman.
Boscoe had his difficulties. He dropped an arrow, stooped to pick it up, and
lost two moccasins. He progressed in this fashion, bobbing along after the
others, but leaving a trail of erstwhile Calhugi belongings. He groaned in agony
as he saw his loot dwindling.
This obviously tickled his companions. They grinned widely.
Then their grins faded.
A most remarkable-looking man had appeared in front of them.

Chapter II. THE SEA ANGEL
STANDING on pedestals here and there inside that part of the museum devoted to
sculpture were a number of bronze statues of ancient athletes who had legendary