"036 (B027) - Mystery Under the Sea (1936-02) - Lester Dent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

Renny rumbled softly, "Plenty has been going on around here, Doc. I've got something I want to show you first."
They moved forward, a silent cavalcade. Big-fisted Renny led the way.
Renny was Colonel John Renwick, world-famed civil engineer, and one of Doc Savage's group of five aids.
There were two other members of Doc Savage's organization—Major Thomas J. "Long Tom" Roberts, an electrical expert, and a geologist-archaeologist, William Harper "Johnny" Littlejohn—but neither of them were at present in the United States. The electrical wizard was in South America, the geologist-archaeologist in Europe, each engaged in following his respective trade.
Renny stopped them when they had reached the beach, before they had walked out where they might be seen.
"Now, isn't that something?" he said, and pointed.
THE scene in the little cove might have been lifted from some historical saga of pirate days, when stout ships were careened on coral sands of the Caribbees.
The ship had been run in hard, parallel to the beach, and grounded. This had been done at high tide, and a main part of the hull now showed. It was a sailing ship, with auxiliary power of some kind—they could see the faint outline of the propeller. Of the three masts the forward was rigged with squaresail and raffee, the other two carried fore-and-aft rig—a bit of a hybrid schooner.
There was no stir of life.
"The hooker isn't as deserted as she looks, by a long shot," Renny said, having difficulty keeping his great voice low.
Doc Savage asked, "What have you seen?"
"The ship had already been beached when I arrived," Renny explained. "You told me just to nose around, and so that's all I've been doing. They've been taking stuff out of that schooner and loading it on barges. And tugs have been dragging the barges away."
He pointed out into the Sound, where the running lights of a tug with a tow could be seen.
"There it goes with the last load," he said. "I don't think they've emptied the schooner, though. The tide went out so much that they couldn't get the barges alongside to load them. If you ask me, they're taking a recess."
Ham demanded, "Can you explain why they beached that boat?"
"I crawled down close," Renny told him. "That hooker has no more bottom than a sieve. Looks like the work of extremely strong acid in the bilge."
"Have you any idea what they are unloading to the barge?" Doc asked.
Renny shook his head. "All the stuff was boxed. There was one exception: some big drums of wire hawser."
"We will go down and look around," Doc Savage said.
"You either have lots of nerve, or no sense," the girl put in.
Doc Savage suggested, "Renny, you might remain here and watch the young woman, while the rest of us board the boat."
"I will not," said Renny, visioning himself missing out on a fight.
"I'll stay with her," Monk offered.
Ham said dryly, "Renny would, too. Only, it has been too dark, so far, for him to see what a beauty she is."
"I hope you all get your blocks knocked off," the girl said, unkindly.
They left her with Monk and crept along the beach, keeping close to the scrubby trees which overhung the sand. It was a simple matter not to make much noise. Small waves made small sounds.
Doc Savage breathed a suggestion: "Notice how the bowsprit runs up almost into the trees. That should offer us a chance to get aboard."
"Water must be deep in that place, to let 'em get this close in," Renny murmured.
"They call it Ten Fathom Cove for that reason," Doc Savage told him.
They caught sight of the name of the schooner, faintly discernible in the murk:
HIGHLOW
"
Queer name," Renny breathed.
"On the contrary, a very fitting name," Doc Savage replied.
Renny frowned. "What do you mean—"
He neither finished his question nor got an answer. At the moment, a large crashing rose in the brush inshore. Several men seemed to be approaching and, judging from the noises, fighting as they came. Angry growls were frequent, as were blows.
"This," Renny breathed hollowly, "is something new."
DOC SAVAGE and his aids were almost under the desired goal, the bowsprit. But, hearing a stirring on the deck above, they withdrew, easing themselves into the shrubbery as silently as was possible. Noises in the brush approached. A man was swearing. They recognized the voice.
Captain flamingo!
It was incredible. It was like having some one arise from the dead. For Captain Flamingo, to all appearances, had certainly perished when he sank under the water at the shipyard and did not appear again. But he was here now, and loud as life.
He was saying, "You might as well calm down, matey. We're keepin' you right with us."
"This is very puzzling to me," complained a shrill voice. "And it will go very hard with you for the indignities you have forced upon me!"
This speaker was plainly quite angry, yet he managed to maintain a scholastic dignity in his manner of speech.
Ham breathed close to Doc's ear, "The voice of that last speaker struck me as familiar."
"You have heard it over the radio a number of times, no doubt," Doc said.
"I fail to place it," Ham whispered. "Who is—"
A group of half a dozen men came out of the shrubbery and stood in the sand under the schooner's bowsprit. One of them carried an ordinary oil lantern. He held up the light, enabling Captain Flamingo to board the ship. The others were busy escorting their captive.
A little gray rabbit of a man was this prisoner. He had a little nose that twitched, big fugitive eyes and even oversize ears. His suit, light-gray and of some very fuzzy material, bore out the general rabbit impression. He walked stiffly.
They had a rope around his neck and they held his arms, and indications were that he had been manhandled, somewhat.
Renny, doubtless irked by an evening of inactivity, breathed, "We can take this crowd, Doc."