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

"Why, yes. But whatЧ" Stinger frankly showed his surprise.
"Call him in!"
Stinger hesitated for a moment. Something in YardoffТs face decided him. He
called, "Rudolph!"
A typical gunman shuffled into the room. In one hand was a short-barreled .38.
"Trouble, boss?" he croaked.
"No trouble, no trouble at all," Petrod Yardoff said. His lips split thinly as
he walked forward, tall frame swaying. "We were merely talking about making a
million dollars, and Stinger here seems a little reluctant. You wouldnТt be, now
would you?"
"What?" The otherТs pig eyes opened wide.
StingerТs jaw dropped. He started to shout. Yardoff was stripping a glove from
one hand. The glove was of transparent rubber. It had been practically
invisible.
The words never came from the gangleaderТs mouth.
Yardoff, still smiling, dropped his hand casually on RudolphТs shoulder.
There was a sudden sheet of fire. The bodyguard jerked; his mouth opened, but he
made no sound. The gun dropped from seared hand. He was dead before he hit the
floor.
The odor of burned flesh filled the room.
"The living fire!" gasped Stinger.
StingerТs features no longer were smooth and unruffled. They were drawn and
taut. His fingers played nervously with the handkerchief in his sleeve.
Stinger had seen many men die. He wasnТt afraid of deathЧas long as it was some
one else who was checking out.
Petrod Yardoff apparently had had nothing in his hand when he had placed it on
the bodyguardТs shoulder. No one else in the room had made a move.
Yet the bodyguard showed every evidence of having died from a tremendous bolt of
electricityЧa bolt that had covered his entire body with flame. And Petrod
Yardoff, touching him, had been unharmed!
Then the gangleader saw something that had escaped his attention before. There
was a thin, transparent, practically invisible rubber mask covering YardoffТs
peculiar cherry-red features. His shoes were of rubber. Even the gray suit he
wore was made of rubber.
Stinger had heard of the living-fire death, had heard it spoken of in
awe-stricken tones in the underworld. It had been tied with whispers of a
mysterious secretЧa secret worth millions.
Petrod Yardoff opened a big trunk. Then he picked up the shriveled, burned form
of the bodyguard, placed it in the trunk and locked the lid.
"Was the exhibition satisfactory?" he asked.
Stinger gulped. "Y-yes," he agreed reluctantly.
"WeТre waiting for your answer!" the barrel-shaped Clement Hoskins reminded
sharply.
"Doc Savage is s-still tough medicine," Stinger protested weakly.
Petrod Yardoff turned. Once again he started to strip a rubber glove from his
hand. A merciless smile split his narrow face. He started to move forward,
catlike.
"No! No!" Stinger shrilled. His hand shot for a telephone. Still breathing
swiftly, he made several calls in rapid succession.
"Doc Savage is out of town," he reported at last, and there was no mistaking the