"065 (B056) - The Giggling Ghosts (1938-07) - Lester Dent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

Hart put out his jaw and glared.
"Look!" he snapped. "Any time a guy barges in on me and ties me up with a rope, I'm gonna do somethin' about it! I don't care if the guy is Doc Savage!"
"You jumped out of the car," Johnny prompted. "Then what?"
"I went tearin' across the sand dunes," Hart explained. "I hit the beach, and about that time a bunch of mugs popped out and shoved guns into my ribs. They put me in a speedboat."
Then Hart described in blunt detail the blasting of the bridge when Doc Savage's car appeared upon it.
"They killed Doc Savage right there," he finished.
JOHNNY sat and contemplated his own feet with blank intentness, and no muscle in his long body seemed to stir, his eyes did not blink, his breathing was imperceptible, and the throbbing of a vein in his forehead was the only sign of life about him.
"Why did you come to me?" he asked hollowly.
The burly young man said, "Well, hell, what else could I do?"
"They turned you loose?"
"They did."
"Can you give any clues?"
"You mean clues to who those men were—or where you can find them? Or clues to—well, this giggling ghost stuff?"
"Any of that."
"Not a clue," Hart said. "They blindfolded me in the boat, after the explosion. They kept me blindfolded until they kicked me out of a car. They kicked me out on a New Jersey road."
Johnny growled, "You say this Birmingham Lawn was also taken a prisoner?"
Hart scowled.
"Yes," he said. "And I ain't plumb satisfied about that mug, either."
"What do you mean?"
"Lawn seemed too damn innocent to me!" Hart growled.
William Harper Littlejohn got up and shuffled to the window. He seemed to have become as stiff as an old man. An oppressing shroud of fog lay over the dark, smoky towers of Manhattan.
"When did Miami Davis have her giggling fit?" Johnny demanded.
Hart gave the time.
"Then the girl was a victim before the time this earthquake is supposed to have happened! That is important!"
Hart was puzzled. "Before the earthquake—"
"It proves," Johnny said grimly, "that an earthquake had nothing to do with the gas!" Johnny turned away from the window. His face looked so sunken that it seemed composed of nothing but bone. "What about Monk and Ham?" he asked.
"I think they were goin' to kill them," Hart said.
Johnny winced. His mouth worked.
Hart got up, straightened his coat on his wide shoulders, and jammed his large fists in his pockets.
"I thought I'd tell you this," he said. "Them guys promised to croak me if I opened my mouth to anybody, but"—he stuck out his jaw—"let 'em hop to it! And if they harm that girl"—his voice lifted to an angry yell—"I'll tear the heads off every last one of 'em!"
Hart went over and clasped Johnny's arm. "Look here," he continued, "I'm worried about that girl. The snip! If they dare hurt her—"
"You are in love with Miami Davis?" Johnny asked.
Hart swallowed.
"I don't know," he growled. "But I'm worried as hell about her."
Johnny said, "I am going to call on you if you can be of any assistance."
"Do that," Hart said grimly. "I got a rushin' little manufacturing business to look out for, but it's gonna be neglected until I find that girl is safe."
Hart then stamped out of the office, holding his jaw out belligerently.
Johnny flung to a telephone.
"Long Tom!" he said into the instrument.
"Yes!" a voice responded.
"A man is leaving the office"—Johnny described Hart—"and I want you to follow him."
"Right!" "Long Tom" said. "Who is he?"
Johnny said, "Man named Hart. He says Doc is dead. I think it's queer he came to me with the story, instead of going to the police."
The other man, Long Tom, made a horrified noise over the telephone. "Doc—you say—but it can't—"
"Follow Hart, Long Tom."
"I'll follow him. Renny is with me. We'll both follow Hart."
The man called "Long Tom" was Major Thomas J. Roberts—specialty electricity; avocation that of Doc Savage assistant.
"Renny" was Colonel John Renwick, a great engineer, also a great hand to prove he could knock panels out of wooden doors with his huge fists. He, too, was an aid to Doc Savage.
These three men—Johnny, Long Tom, and Renny—with the missing Monk and Ham, comprised Doc Savage's staff of five associates.
Chapter XI. NO MEDDLERS