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

Doc Savage lunged for the silver monstrosity. He was lightning on his feet.
But the Sea Angel was lightning doubled. One of the black arms whipped forward,
and the long, black rope came around like a blacksnake whip.
Doc dodged, and the dark ball barely touched him. But the touch had an
incredible effect: He felt it from head to foot. Not pain. Something else.
Shock. Agony.
The bronze man stumbled back, was clear when the other arm struck. He kept
moving, reached old Leander Quietman, scooped him up.
It became evident that there was no way out of the alley and court. But in a
corner was a small brick box of a building, the door open, a key in the lock.
Tools, lawn mowers, were inside.
Doc whipped to the shed, popped Leander Quietman inside, and closed the door. He
turned the key in the lock, then took the key out.
Doc got close to the brick wall. He shoved the key into a cranny between the
bricks, twisted, and broke it so that it would never open the little tool
cubicle again.
The strange creature, the Sea Angel, glided to the tool house, fluttered about
it a moment. It could not get in. It made no sound.
Boscoe and his men ran. They ran as if getting away from there was the nicest
thing they had ever been able to do.

THE Sea Angel advanced on Doc Savage. The bronze man dipped into his clothing
and brought out a small gas grenade. He hurled it. The thing broke against the
monster, poured out tear gas.
The tear gas had absolutely no effect, except that it made it necessary for the
bronze man to get away immediately. He managed to do it by a wild rush.
Doc got out of the alley and onto a side street.
Boscoe and his men were in two cars, leaving rapidly.
A young woman stood on the sidewalk. An unusually tall and attractive young
woman, who was staring in wonder at the goings-on.
Suddenly she screamed, whirled, ran.
She had seen, of course, the Sea Angel. The thing was following Doc Savage.
Doc ran swiftly. Construction work was being done on a near-by street, under the
elevated railway. The bronze man made for the loose bricks, and when he reached
them, he picked one up, and let fly.
The brick struck squarely. And the monster wavered for an instant, driven off
balance. Doc picked up more bricks. The incredible apparition retreated swiftly.
A taxicab came cruising around the corner, and the daydreaming driver saw the
silver-and-black creature. He gave a violent start and hung his amazed face out
a window.
One of the monsterТs strange, black feelers snaked out and barely touched the
driverТs elbow. The hackman shrieked. Screeched as if he had lost the arm. And
he fed his cab gears and gas.
The monster leaped, and got onto the cab. Not onto the running board, but across
the top, great flipperlike wings draped down on the side, the black feelers
tossed up over its back.
The taxi driver saw what he had aboard. He was still shrieking when he and his
machine and his fantastic passenger were lost to sight, six blocks away.
Doc Savage ran to his car, a long, powerful, plain roadster and gave chase; but
the cab was gone, although he hunted over an area of many blocks before he gave