"075 (B042) - The Gold Ogre (1939-05) - Lester Dent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

"What about my father!" Don Worth said impatiently. "We've got to find him!"
They went looking for the man they had glimpsed dimly, staggering through the moonlit open spaces in the woods. They found him, sprawled in a clearing.
"Dad!" Don Worth shouted, and dashed forward.
But it wasn't his father.
Chapter IV. SPELL OF THE OGRES
THE man was short, much shorter than Don Worth's father, and he was rather wide. He had a swarthy, but not unpleasant face, with a wide mouth that was twisted by suffering. Recently his suit had been excellent, but now it was mangled until it seemed remarkable that it stayed on him.
He had a small club. He clutched this menacingly.
"Take it easy, mister," Don Worth said quickly.
"Whosa you fella?" the man demanded.
Mental Byron let out an exclamation.
"Hey, it's Tony Bandorra!" Mental said. "Tony is the head mechanic for one of Mr. Marcus Gild's truck lines!"
Tony Bandorra was obviously about to pass out from injuries and exhaustion.
"What happened to you, Tony?" Don asked.
Tony said quite a number of words in a foreign language, to express his feelings.
"I notta crazy!" he insisted unexpectedly.
"Nobody has said you were—"
"But you gonna say so when you hear what I tella you," Tony said grimly.
He hesitated, then gave his explanation.
He had been walking home from work late two nights ago, and a hideous little golden dwarf had leaped out and struck him with a club. "He's mucha ugly bambino," Tony described the midget. Tony had become unconscious. He had awakened in a cavern, a great unpleasant place, which was, "Plumb fulla them ugly bambinos—"
Don Worth interrupted excitedly, "Did you see my father?"
"Who'sa bambino you?"
"My father is Thomas Worth," Don told him. "Did you see dad?"
"They have buncha fella that place. I notta see 'em all."
"You mean," gasped Don, "that the dwarfs have a number of prisoners?"
"That'sa right."
The four listeners were dumfounded. They stared at each other in the moonlight.
Tony Bandorra said, "Whatta mat' with you bambinos? You no thinka I'm bats in the belfry?"
"No, Tony," Don said. "We believe you."
"Yousa crazy, then. She'sa story nobody shoulda believe."
"How do you account for what happened, Tony? Why were you seized?"
"Boys, you guess as gooda as me. They make me drink of some stuff what she no taste good."
"Made you drink something?"
"No taste good. Then they turna me loose."
Surprised, Don asked, "You didn't escape? They freed you?"
"That'sa right."
A cloud passed over the moon, and sudden darkness pounced like black animals, causing it to occur to all of them simultaneously that they didn't like their surroundings.
"We're not out of the woods yet," said Funny Tucker, "and no joke intended."
"Hows about you bambinos helpa me home?" Tony Bandorra asked.
The four exercised their woodcraft, made a stretcher out of two poles and their coats, then took turns carrying. It probably wasn't as long as it seemed before they got Tony Bandorra home to the pleasant little cottage where he lived alone, a bachelor.
They gave Tony first aid, then called a doctor, and the medico assured them they had done all they could. The doctor was naturally puzzled, but they decided to let Tony Bandorra explain matters.
There seemed nothing else to do, so the four headed for Don Worth's home.
"They made him drink something, then turned him loose," Mental Byron pondered.
"Mysterious," Don Worth admitted.
"I still bet we can sell the story to the movies for a pile of jack," said B. Elmer Dexter.
THE next morning, Funny Tucker got up early—getting up early was unusual for joy-loving Funny, very unusual—and went out to get all the newspapers that had been issued in Crescent City and vicinity during the past several days. Funny came rushing back in a sweating excitement.
"You act," B. Elmer told him, "as if you had ants on you."
"Yeah. Cold-footed ones," Funny gulped. "Here, look at these papers!"
The others gathered around. Funny had used his pencil to mark several different items in his assortment of newspapers. All of these articles were similar.
"There's six items," Don Worth said, "and they're all about alike."
Funny Tucker pointed. "Here's a typical one."