"Robeson, Kenneth - Doc Savage 1938 01 - Living Fire Menace" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

"Doc Savage!" he repeated, and his voice held a note of awe.
There was frenzied fear in the strangerТs face, in the queer, pinched lines
about his eyes as he waited for his call.
"Hurry!" he yelled impotently. "Hurry! IТve got to reach Doc Savage before itТs
too late!"
The telephone operator was hurrying. The name Doc Savage had done something to
her, also. Her voice had an unusually excited timbre as she implored intervening
stations for speed.
"Doc SavageТs office. William Harper Littlejohn speaking," came calm, measured
tones from the other end of the wire.
The telephone operatorТs heart sank. "A call for Mr. Doc Savage," she said
hopefully.
"Clark Savage, Jr., is absent for the nonce. I will hear the communication."
"Johnny! Johnny! Listen! This is Z-2!" the queerly dressed man shouted
frantically into the telephone. "YouТve got to get word to Doc at once!"
He paused, subconsciously stripped one heavy glove from a hand to wipe the
perspiration from his face.
"IТve found something thatТs unbelievable! The fate of the world is at stake.
And thereТs a plot aimed at Doc, at all of you! Listen. IТll give you the
low-down fast. I havenТt got long to live. ThereТs a living fire. ItТs terrible!
ItТsЧ"
A pretty face pressed close to a half-opened window of the filling station. Dark
eyes gleamed with sudden anticipation.
Blam!
There was a noise like two boards smacking together sharply. A queer, burned
odor filled the air.
At the other end of the wire, more than two thousand miles away, that sharp
crack came clearly.
But no more words came over that wire.

Chapter II. ATTACKERS STRIKE
WILLIAM HARPER LITTLEJOHN, better known as "Johnny," seldom showed excitement.
Lean, with a half-starved look, with glasses hiding his eyes, he appeared like
just what he was: a studious scientist, one of the worldТs greatest geologists
and archaeologists.
But he was excited now. With almost unseemly haste, for him, he signaled for the
long-distance operator, barked with unaccustomed harshness:
"Get that number back, operator. Get it back at once. This is Doc SavageТs
office speaking!"
Across the room a thin, lean man with yellow, unhealthy-appearing skin, lounged
indolently in an easy-chair. He was pulling absently at an oversize ear.
Major Thomas J. Roberts appeared a physical weakling. Appearances were
deceitful, even as his slouching pose was now. He tried to seem nonchalant;
actually, he was afire with curiosity.
"What is it, Johnny, some nut?" he asked.
"Nut, nothing!" Johnny rapped.
Major Thomas J. Roberts, familiarly called "Long Tom," sat up abruptly in his
chair. The very fact that Johnny had failed to use his usual quota of big words
was sufficient to tell him that something was in the air.
"That was Z-2," Johnny explained rapidly. "HeТs an undercover agent for the