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

strength.
This stranger was like that. He might as readily have been one of the statues
come to life, as the other men had lately been Calhugi Indians. He was, however,
attired in a neat, brown civilian suit, and there was no make-up on his skin to
make it resemble bronze, whereas the others had their hides painted a coppery
red.
Nothing happened for some moments. The fake redskins looked at the man they had
met.
Boscoe said quickly, "Watch it, guys, watch it! Daniel in the lionТs den didnТt
have anything on us!"
"One side, bronze guy!" a man snarled. "Or weТll take you plenty!"
"You apes!" Boscoe growled. "Do you know who this guyЧ"
Boscoe did not finish. The action started. A man pointed his pistol at the
bronze giant. There was blurred motion, and the bronze giant was not where he
had been; and two men were flat on their backs, kicking their legs like flies
and trying to figure out just what had happened.
Poor old Leander L. Quietman had been dropped on the hard cement alley pavement.
The men who had held him leaped to the attack.
A man drew a gun. "Get Сem up!"
"Nix!" Boscoe barked anxiously.
The next instant, as if by some miraculous legerdemain, the bronze man had
secured the gun. He pointed it at the sky, pulled the trigger. A mousetrap would
have made more noise. The pistol was not loaded.
Boscoe groaned, "Now he knows our guns are empty!"
If the fact that a gang of men staging a kidnaping carried unloaded guns amazed
the bronze giant, he did not show emotion about it.
The fight continued. It became obvious the unbelievable was going to happen. The
mountain was coming to Mahomet, water would run uphill. One amazing bronze man
was going to whip the whole gang!
Then, and the very, suddenness of it was incredibly weird, men seemed to freeze
where they stood. They had been jumping about wildly, striking, trying to get
clear of their Nemesis. They stiffened. It was as if they were a movie which had
been stopped at one scene. They seemed scarcely to breathe, until finally,
Boscoe lifted a thick arm slowly and pointed.
"The Sea Angel!" he croaked.

THE bronze manЧDoc SavageЧwhirled and saw it.
Fantastic thing. An incredible thing. Had it been night, the thing might have
been a bit more believable.
Eight feet might be the height of the incredible creature. That, though, was a
guess. It was frilly around the edges. It was half as wide as high. It had a
thick part for a body. It had triangular wings, two of them, and these ran to a
point; and from these dangled black ropelike arms, eight or ten feet long. Each
arm terminated in a black ball a little smaller than a baseball.
Silver was the creatureТs color. The slick silver of a fish. But there were
black markingsЧthe edges of the thing, and the arms.
As it stood there, it did bear some resemblance to an angel. It had a mouth.
This was evident when the mouth opened and showed a jet-black gullet. The mouth
was large enough to take a beer keg, with only a little stretching.
Boscoe croaked, "Boys, weТre in a predicament now!"