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

TROPIC SEAS
"
Huh!" gulped Captain Flamingo. "Put some wind in my sails, matey. What's the idea?"
"If somebody got a look at me, or if I was to lose that hat," said the driver, "I figured it would look—" He leaned over and whispered words in the gaudily clad man's ear.
Monk and Ham did not catch it.
"Sure, sure," said Captain Flamingo, delightedly.
Monk demanded, "What's the idea here?"
Captain Flamingo glared at him.
"I lost a ship of mine tonight, matey," he growled, unpleasantly. "A swab poured acid in the bilge and it ate the plates out of her. I ain't in a helluva good humor. You better do what you're told to do. Get under way."
Monk, Ham were loaded into the machine and it rolled downtown.
The bulletproof vests were stripped off Monk and Ham, and Captain Flamingo spent his time examining them curiously. The car joined traffic and rumbled over one of the bridges spanning the East River into Brooklyn. It turned right and followed the water front.
Pier sheds along the river were large at first, but diminished in size and grew, for the most part, more ramshackle. They came to a section devoted to small shipyards.
Suddenly, for no reason that could be seen, Captain Flamingo's companion began to laugh. He laughed long and heartily and finally wound up by stuffing his own fist into his mouth.
"Batten your hatch," Captain Flamingo warned him.
Monk squirmed and demanded, "What do you fellows want with us?"
"I'll tell you," said Captain Flamingo, suddenly. "We want you to tell us just how much Doc Savage knows about this business."
Chapter 4. "TROPIC SEAS"
IT was before one of the shipyards that the car finally pulled up. The driver switched off the lights. He left the engine running.
To a wharf at the bottom of the shipyard was tied a small rusty-looking steamer, a craft with a length of less than two hundred feet. She needed painting. Naked, blazing electric light bulbs dangled over her rails at intervals of not more than a score of feet, lighting every inch of the water and the wharf about her. Not a soul was visible on or around the craft.
Monk and Ham were forced into a small shed, foul-smelling of ship stores. They were questioned, after their ankles and wrists were bound. It seemed Flamingo wanted information of "Diamond Eve" and "Seaworthy."
They stepped outside the shed for a private conversation. As they did so, a huge shadow glided into the shed. Monk felt fingers wrenching at his bonds, felt the ropes snap, and recognized the one person whose strength could accomplish the feat so easily.
"Doc!" he gulped.
"Quiet," the bronze man breathed.
"How did you find us?" Monk whispered.
"By trailing the car which brought you," the bronze man explained. He then released Ham, also.
Doc glided out the door of the shed, to attempt capture of Flamingo and his two men. But they suspicioned something and hastened for a pile of timbers. Doc threw a piece of wood at the gloom behind the timbers and it drew a shot that thumped into the side of the steamer.
Excitement in quantities now broke out aboard the trampish-looking steamer. Men with rifles appeared on her decks.
From where they lay, Doc and his men could make out the name of the boat:
TROPIC SEAS
The armed men from the ship ran down the gangplank and began an advance. Some of them carried hand searchlights.
Doc pressed into the hands of Monk and Ham the oversize machine pistols of Doc's invention, shooting mercy bullets which did not kill but only produced unconsciousness.
"Watch the gate," Doc Savage directed. "Keep Captain Flamingo and the other two from retreating in that direction. Their only chance will be to swim for it."
Monk and Ham eased in the direction of the gate.
After they had departed, there was no stirring in the shadow to indicate Doc Savage had also moved. But he had changed position; doing so with the almost uncanny stealth of which he was capable. He was, in fact, now not more than a score of feet from Captain Flamingo and his two comrades. He could hear the trio quarreling.
"Bringin' them two guys here to question 'em was a dam-fool, reckless stunt!" snarled one of the men.
"Belay that!" growled Captain Flamingo. "Sure, it was a risk. But I was tryin' to get Doc Savage onto that Tropic Seas gang."
At that moment, a loud and very astounded exclamation came from the direction of the gate. It was Monk. Plainly, he had just received a profound surprise.
Doc Savage made a cautious survey to ascertain what had so moved Monk. He saw almost at once.
The girl of the diamonds! She had come off the ship, Tropic Seas, and was directing the sailors, urging them to charge. With her was the man whom she had designated as Seaworthy, during her visit to Doc Savage's office.
Captain Flamingo's voice snarled, "Here's where I teach Miss Diamond Eve Post a lesson!"
With all the speed of which his trained muscles were capable, Doc Savage got a small flashlight out of his clothing. He thumbed it, planting a beam squarely upon Captain Flamingo. The latter had a revolver leveled in the direction of the girl. The unexpected flashlight flare surprised him out of shooting at the young woman. Instead, he whirled and fired at Doc. But, by that time, Doc had doused the light, was down. Captain Flamingo's lead hit the timber behind which Doc lay. It jarred the timber slightly.
Rifles crashed. Bullets stormed overhead. The Tropic Seas crowd had opened fire.
Captain Flamingo began to swear in a shrill, almost insanely mad voice. He could not remain where he was. The Tropic Seas attackers were spreading out, would soon have him flanked.
"We'll hit the drink!" Captain Flamingo rapped.
He leaped up, ran toward the water. The other two trod his heels. The darkness aided them. They reached the water.
Surprisingly enough, they did not dive in immediately. Instead, they flung themselves down behind a painters' float which had been hauled out, and did something. Just what they did, Doc Savage could not discern. The bronze man was at that moment engaged in getting himself into the background.
It was reasonable to expect that Captain Flamingo and the others had removed part of their clothing, to make swimming easier. But when they got to their feet, it proved they had done nothing of the sort. Fully dressed, they plunged into the bay. They disappeared and did not come up immediately, which was to be expected, since there was every chance that they would be shot the instant they broke the surface again.
What happened next was surprising, a bit unbelievable. Also, it was something that later offered a grim significance of entirely surprising nature. It was a thing that, in a sense, forecast the amazing, fantastic events that were to occur before the whole incredible adventure came to an end.
The men who had leaped into the water did not come up at all!
THAT they did not come up, was absolutely certain. The men from the Tropic Seas aligned along the shore had turned on their hand searchlights. Others lowered two motor tenders over the sides of the rusty old tramp, and cruised about. The tenders were equipped with surprisingly powerful searchlights.