"046 (B052) - The Vanisher (1936-12) - Lester Dent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

"The guard had been reading the story," he said. "In his dying muttering, he repeated the name suggested by the story."
The warden looked as if he had some doubts on that point.
The woman reporter was crowding into an obscure corner and attempting to use the object she was carrying. The two young men journalists were watching her curiously and keeping close to her, hoping to find something to make a remark about and break the conversational ice.
DOC SAVAGE went to the freight car. He was careful not to touch the liquid on the glass bottom of the car, but thrust his head into the gondola and roved the beam of a flashlight. The flashlight was one of his own development, and operated from a spring generator instead of a battery, giving a narrow, intensely white beam of light which could be fanned out widely when desired.
Having examined the interior of the freight car, Doc went over the outside.
"It is a regulation freight car," he said. "But it has been rebuilt inside to the extent that the glass covering was put on the floor."
"But why the glass covering?" the warden demanded.
"The contents of the car and the news of what had happened inside was evidently intended to remain a secret for a longer time than it did," the bronze man replied.
The warden hesitated, as if not wanting to seem too dumb; then curiosity got the best of him.
"I still don't see why the glass bottom!" he said, sharply.
"To hold the acid," Doc explained.
"Acid?"
"A mixture of acids rather," the bronze man elaborated. "The blending was done cleverly, and shows an enormous knowledge of chemistry. The mixture secured will destroy most metals and other solids in a surprisingly short space of time."
The warden scratched his head. He started violently.
"How terrible!" he gasped.
"What was, warden?" barked a newspaperman.
"We know the convicts went into that freight car!" gasped the warden. "We know that the car held an acid which would literally consume them alive!"
"The car was supposed to hold a pipe organ," a man pointed out.
"Yes, but—"
"Is anybody sure it did hold a pipe organ?"
"It held big boxes which were presumed to contain the pipe organ," the warden explained. "It was searched, of course, when the car was switched into the prison yards yesterday."
"Who sent the pipe organ, if any?"
"A man named Sigmund Hoppel."
"Who's he?"
"We're going to find out."
The warden shook his head forlornly and added the conclusion which he had reached.
"Some one took those convicts to their death," he said. "Some one came into the prison, freed the crooks, and led them into that car filled with acid, where they were eaten alive."
"Looks as if somebody would've heard 'em yell," said a guard who had heard one of the burned guards yell.
Every one concentrated over the mystery, the newspapermen included, with one exception.
The exception was the young woman who showed traces of such remarkable beauty. She withdrew to the outskirts of the group and maneuvered herself until she had a clear view of Doc Savage. She lifted to her eyes the thing which she had been carrying in her hands.
It was a miniature camera.
She focused the tiny camera on Doc Savage, getting the crossed sighting wires squarely on the bronze man's chest so that she would get a perfect full-length picture. She pressed the shutter trip.
The bang! of a gunshot came from the tiny camera.
Chapter 5. THE FIFTY-DOLLAR PHOTOGRAPH
A BULLET HOLE, round and neat, appeared in Doc Savage's plain dark suit, exactly over the heart.
The bullet was evidently a large one. The recoil of its discharge knocked the miniature camera out of the girl's hands, skinning her face slightly. The camera fell on the ground in such a position that the lense was upturned, showing that the glass had been blown out to reveal the round snout of the firing barrel concealed inside, and from which the bullet had come.
The girl squinted painfully and saw the bullet hole over Doc Savage's heart. Doc Savage was just beginning to fall backward. An indescribable expression came on the girl's face.
The girl whirled and ran. But she used her head. A guard stood near by, holding a submachine gun.
Loaded submachine guns are commonly kept only in barred towers and other points where convict inmates cannot get to them. When the guns are taken from one point to another, they are first unloaded, and the gun taken to the new point, then the ammunition later and separately, so that both cannot be seized at the same time.
But the convicts were still in their cells, which accounted for this submachine gun being in the yard. And the guard who held it was a slow thinker, which enabled the girl to grab his weapon.
She wrenched. She was strong. She got the gun, reversed it hurriedly and menaced every one.
"Stand still!" she shrieked.
They stood still. The girl backed swiftly to the automobile in which Doc Savage had been brought to the penitentiary. She got in, turned the ignition switch, stamped the starter, shifted from first to second to high, then leaped out, at the same time yanking the gas control wide open. The car was heavy. It hit the barred gate at about forty miles an hour.
The gate did not collapse, because it was of heavy steel bars and had cost the State a nice sum. But it did give sufficiently to make an opening that would pass the young woman. She squeezed through, pointed her submachine gun in the air and pulled the trigger.
The gun discharged with a hideous clamor. Every guard in every tower within sight hastily ducked his head out of sight.
The young woman threw down the gun. It was heavy enough to impede her flight. She put her head down and ran at a surprising clip.
At the first corner, she looked back. Pursuit had not yet organized itself, except for a few guards who were jumping about in the manner of chickens deprived of their heads. The girl continued to run.
She rounded various corners, and seemed to have no definite idea of where she was going, except that she wanted to get on a street where there was no traffic. She succeeded in doing this, and ran swiftly for some minutes. She began to breathe hard and show signs of being winded.
A car appeared on the deserted street and approached slowly. The girl turned around and eyed it. The driver was hunched behind the wheel and seemed to be paying no particular attention to anything.
The girl yanked her spinsterish hat over her eyes, so that it did its utmost to conceal her face. She waited until the car rolled close, at the same time removing a scarf from around her neck and draping it over her right hand.