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

They read:
Mrs. Rose Moritz appeared at police headquarters yesterday afternoon and asked officers to conduct a search for her husband, Moss, who disappeared two days ago.
Having read that item and others of a similar nature—about the only variation was that different persons were concerned—Don Worth, Mental Byron and the other two could not help seeing something unpleasant.
"Whew!" Mental exclaimed.
"It looks," Don said, "as if there has been an epidemic of disappearances in Crescent City."
Astonished, they gave the papers a more thorough examination.
"No doubt about it," B. Elmer said. "There's a lot of people getting missing."
Mental nodded soberly. "Crescent is a small city," he pointed out, "and while now and then someone disappears—it never happens on such a scale as this. Why, at least six persons have vanished in the last few days. Too many to be coincidence."
Don Worth went to the window and frowned at the bright morning sun. His mouth was grim. They hadn't found his father. They had only learned that something incredible seemed to be afoot. Don clenched his teeth. Terror, like a dark animal, was skulking in the corners of his mind, and only his determination not to be afraid kept it from leaping out.
"There wasn't," he said, "a word in the paper this morning about Tony Bandorra."
"Queer, too," Funny said.
"Tony Bandorra apparently didn't tell the police what he told us."
"Either that," Mental pointed out, "or the police thought the story was too goofy to be true."
Don reached for his hat.
"Thing for us to do," he said, "is go get Tony Bandorra and the police together, and make the police believe the story. The officers should realize that something incredible and terrible is really happening."
The others nodded approval.
"Maybe we can make a lotta money," suggested B. Elmer, "by organizing a detective agency and finding these missing people."
THE moment they reached Tony Bandorra's house, they knew something was wrong. People stood on the sidewalk, staring at Tony's neat little house. Neighbors, evidently.
"What's wrong?" Don demanded.
"Fellow lives there is acting funny," a man explained. "Somebody came to visit him, and he started screeching and throwing things."
Don and the other three exchanged knowing looks. Funny said, "The guy is probably scared stiff is all. He'll feel better when he sees us."
They strode onto the porch and knocked—and nothing happened. Not for some time. B. Elmer muttered, "Funny," and went over to a window and tapped on it and called, "Hey, Tony! It's the fellows who helped you last night."
Tony Bandorra opened the door then.
Don Worth felt a bite of uneasiness. Something he couldn't have worded. Conceivably it was the expression on Tony Bandorra's face—a difference.
"Why, it'sa bambinos!" Tony said heartily. "Come ona in!"
Tony was bandaged. He wore a neat dark suit, evidently his Sunday suit, and a clean shirt. His necktie was loud. His grin was big. Big and a trifle strange.
Don's uneasiness began growing.
"How are you, Tony?" he asked.
"Feela fine as silk," Tony said.
"Didn't you tell the police what happened?" Don asked, getting to the point at once. "The newspapers had nothing about it."
Tony's grin collapsed, then came back again. "Whata you talk about?"
"You know—the golden-colored dwarfs who seized you. Everything. Didn't you tell the officers?"
Tony had large teeth. All of them showed in a weird, foxy grin.
"Bambinos, you come to basement," he said. "Tony showa you something."
Tony led the way to a door that led down into the basement of his bungalow. He stepped back, gestured for them to go down.
"She'sa somethin' down there you like to see," he said.
Mental Byron started down the steps, trailed by Funny Tucker.
Don Worth made a move to follow, got as far as the first step. His uneasiness burst up, like a flame of warning. He grabbed at Mental and Funny.
"Wait!" Don barked. "Fellows, there's something wrong here—"
He never finished. Tony Bandorra screamed. He emitted a shriek that Don Worth heard for a long time, in nightmares. And he whipped out a piece of gas pipe which had been hidden under his coat.
B. Elmer Dexter for once wasn't preoccupied with a scheme to get rich quick. He dived for Tony. B. Elmer was a fairish football player; he made good use of his skill. Tony went down.
Don pitched for the gas pipe. He got a blow on the shoulder; it shocked his whole side. But he fastened both hands to the pipe. He was stronger than Tony, although not one person in a thousand would have guessed it. Don wrestled furiously, got the gas pipe. He stumbled back with it, a little surprised. He was always astonished at the results of his strength, being inclined to underestimate his muscular power.
Funny and Mental leaped back up the stairs, sprang for Tony. But Tony rolled, struck B. Elmer, managed to kick Funny's well-fed midriff—and got away. He was up and out of the door with astonishing agility.
Tony Bandorra ran away from the bungalow making weird gigglings and snarling.
Chapter V. THE SPECIALIST IN MYSTERY
FUNNY TUCKER held his middle and gasped, "Let's get outa here."
"Wait," Don said grimly.
He went down into the basement, holding the piece of gas pipe ready. He saw a switch, poked it; the place flooded with light. There was nothing except the things that should be in a basement.
Don went back upstairs. He found the others waiting, looking as if he had gone barehanded into a lion cage.
"Nothing," Don explained. "We'll look over the house."