"028 (B088) - The Roar Devil (1935-06) - Lester Dent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

The other made a gesture of throwing things off his shoulders.
"Indirectly, perhaps," he said. "If we consider acquaintanceship in the category of the tangible and the certain march of circumstances, rather than a concrete expression of - "
"You sound like a guy I know," Renny growled. "Nobody understands him when he talks."
"You mean the estimable William Harper Little-john, better known as Johnny?" queried the other. "To tell the truth, we rather expected Doc Savage instead of you. Johnny is the geologist, you know."
"So your crowd sent that guy to shoot Doc in New York?" Renny hazarded.
The neatly clad man smiled and adjusted his spectacles. He did not answer the question directly.
"By the way, what became of the, ah - messenger of death?" he queried.
Renny looked very gloomy. "You won't see him again."
Then something happened which caused Renny's hair to all but stand on end. Like an echo to his gloomy prediction about the New York killer's fate, like a monster aroused and enraged by the statement, the earth gave a violent shake.
RENNY was not a man easily scared. Yet he felt as if ice were in his blood. Not because the earth shook. Because of the other thing that happened - the uncanny thing.
The trembling of the cabin shook books off the shelves, and when they hit the floor there was absolutely no sound. Renny was so stunned by that phenomenon that he opened his mouth and swore. He did not hear himself.
Renny stamped his feet. He could not hear that. He yelled. He did not hear his own voice. He did feel the tickle as his vocal cords vibrated, and got a vibration against his eardrums, which he himself could understand.
It was incredible. All sound had ceased. It was impossible to make a noise.
Renny decided to try again, and opened his mouth and let out his best roar. In the middle of the bawl the weird spell suddenly ended, with the result that Renny all but deafened himself with his own howling. He fell silent and looked blank.
All of his captors laughed.
"That guy would make a good understudy to the Roar Devil," one of them said.
"Roar Devil!" Renny blinked. "Just what is this Roar Devil?"
The neat man smiled grimly. "Just what does the name suggest to you?"
"Don't be funny!" Renny rumbled.
"Power!" snapped the other. "That's what it suggests. And very fittingly, too, I will add. Power, such as no man has dreamed! And wealth. Infinite wealth! Other people's wealth, it is true. But as Bobby Burns did not say, 'wealth is wealth, for a' that.'"
"This don't make sense," Renny grumbled.
"Oh, yes it does, if you only knew," chuckled the other. "It makes very good sense. You have just felt the Roar Devil at work, taking the final steps that will crown him emperor of his realm. Or let us hope they crown him."
"I'll crown somebody before I'm through with this nutty business!" Renny promised. "Say, was that girl working for this Roar Devil?"
The neat man smirked. "Don't you ever draw conclusions from what you see?"
"Was she?" Renny demanded.
"You will put your hands behind you," directed the other. "We are going to tie them there."
Renny complied. It would have been insanity not to obey. They had their guns cocked.
"Did you," he was asked as he was being tied, "ever hear of Dove of Peace Zachies, or Dove Zachies, as he is called?"
Renny scowled. "Yeah."
"Has Doc Savage heard of him?"
"Yeah," Renny admitted. He was now bound tightly.
"Excellent," said the neat man. "Let us hope Doc Savage is still in his New York headquarters. The Roar Devil now has business with him."

Chapter VI. A NIGHT FOR TRADING

THE small, plump, innocent-looking man with the gray beard stood in the doorway of Doc Savage's skyscraper headquarters. His hat was in his hand; he looked very meek.
"I am Dove Zachies," he said. "May I come in?"
Doc Savage showed no surprise as he moved the barrier of bulletproof plate glass aside and let Dove Zachies into the reception room.
"I have seen men who looked less like crooks," the bronze man said.
Zachies was cheerful and frank.
"I know better than to try to deceive you," he said. "I am a criminal in the eyes of the law, yes. But I have my own code of honor. I smuggle on a large scale, yes. I think tariffs are too high. I was in the liquor business during prohibition days. I did not believe in prohibition. I smuggle aliens. This is a free country, and why keep some out and let others in?"
"Did you come up here to argue about that?" Doc asked, without emotion.
Zachies shook his head solemnly.
"I came to ask your help," he announced.
"My help?"
"Not for myself," Zachies denied hastily. "I ask your help for the American public. Perhaps for the world."
"That sounds somewhat melodramatic," Doc Savage suggested.
Zachies became earnest, twisting his expensive hat in his hands.
"Have you heard of the Roar Devil?" he asked.
Doc Savage did not answer immediately, but moved over behind the massive inlaid table and seated himself. With seeming absent-mindedness, he rested a finger tip on the exquisite mosaic of the table top.