"Doc Savage Adventure 1934-01 Brand of the Werewolf" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doc Savage Collection)

"A wire came for you at the last station," said Wilkie, and handed over the message. It was the first time in years that Wilkie had been awed in the presence of anybody.

"Thank you," said Doc Savage.

Wilkie found himself retreating, although he had intended to hang around and strike up a conversation with this remarkable man. The tone of those two words had impelled him to depart. At the same time, he found himself feeling very friendly toward the metallic giant.

It was eerie, the things the bronze man's voice could do.

Wilkie was almost out of the observation car when another weird thing happened. An uncanny sound reached his ears.

He came to an abrupt stop. His face was blank. Absently, he felt of his ears. The sound was so curious that he half suspected it might be a product of his imagination. The note seemed to be coming from no particular spot, but from every where.

It was low, mellow, and trilling, that sound-like the song of some strange feathered denizen of the jungle, or the sound of a wind crawling through a leafless wilderness. It ran up and down the musical scale, having no tune, yet melodious. Then it ended.

Wilkie did not feel awed by the sound. Rather, there was something inspiring about it.

As he went on, Wilkie felt as if he had just taken a drink of fine old liquor. The trilling sound had that kind of an effect.



Chapter 2

THE TRAIN WEREWOLF


THE sound Wilkie had heard was part of Doc Savage. It was a small, unconscious thing which he did in moments of intense concentration, or when he was surprised. Often when Doc made the sound, he was unaware of doing so.

Reading the text of the telegram had caused the tiny, weird note to come into being.

Leaving his chair, Doc strode for the observation platform on the rear of the coach.

There were other passengers. These were amazed by the bronze man's appearance - so much so that they forgot their manners and frankly stared.

A stout, elderly man with a slightly swarthy face gazed at the bronze giant's hands. Enormous, supple tendons showed those hands contained incredible strength. The hands seemed to mesmerize the swarthy man.

A ravishingly pretty dark-haired girl sat beside the elderly man. Her eyes were large and limpid, and her lips a most inviting rosebud. She looked very fresh and crisp, so impeccable, in fact, that it was obvious she had not been on the train long. Even the neatest of individuals soon show the effects of traveling.

These two were clearly father and daughter.

The attractive young woman seemed intrigued, not by the bronze man's undeniable physical strength, but by the fact that he was one of the handsomest fellows she had ever seen.

Doc Savage went on, seeming not to notice the pair.

Frowning, the elderly man dropped a hand on his daughter's arm.

"Quila aIM!" he ejaculated severely in Spanish. "For shame! You were smiling at that man, Cere."

The enchanting Cere colored in confusion. She had smiled, although she had not meant to.

"Eso es espantoso!" she laughed. "It is dreadful! Thank goodness, he did not see me. He would have thought me very forward."