"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 018 - The Squeaking Goblin" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

and that fact obviously impressed them, especially in view of the uncanny way in which the quarry had
escaped.

"Looks like the guy give us the slip," called one of the group on shore, answering Tige.

After shouting, the man brushed back his coat to hook a thumb in a suspender, and a small badge was
disclosed, pinned to his vest. The shield marked him as an operative for the Coastal Private Detective
Agency. From time to time, badges were visible on the other men, an indication that they were all private
detectives of the Coastal Agency.

"Mought as well give up a-lookin’!" Tige bellowed. "You all won’t find nothin’."
"Hell!" said one of the detectives. "That bird must’ve left some tracks in this sand."

"You ain’t agoin’ t’find nary a one," forecast Tige.

The sleuths began to search, confidently at first, then with an almost stunned carefulness. There were no
footprints to be found, although the sand was soft enough to allow them to sink in to their ankles.

"You-all find any?" Tige demanded.

"He must’ve jumped from one rock to another!" snapped a detective.

"Ya-h-h-h!" jeered Tige. "Ain’t no use scratchin’ around thur for the varmint. Come a-runnin’. We got tur see if
the fisty cuss hit Chelton Raymond with thot thur bullet."

The sleuths hesitated, puzzled. One remarked that he had seen the shadow behind the yacht porthole upset
after the loud squeak which had accompanied the flash of the coonskin-capped one’s rifle. Tige overheard this
statement.

"Come a-runnin’!" Tige howled urgently.

"We’d better do that," grunted a Coastal Agency man. "After all, that hill-billy and Chelton Raymond hired us
to take orders."

"We were to be bodyguards, too," interjected another. "A swell job we did of that, lettin’ this spook in the
coonskin cap come up and take a shot at the porthole of Chelton Raymond’s cabin, even after the hill-billy
warns us, by lightin’ that cigarette, that the thing is prowling around here."

"Horsefeathers! Now you’re talking as if the thing wasn’t human." The other sleuth was frankly skeptical.

"Well, it got around like a ghost, didn’t it?"

They ran down to the water’s edge and dragged out a small boat concealed among the boulders. Floating it,
they got aboard and paddled out to the yacht.

Tige was not on deck, but the newly arrived detectives could hear loud blows from below, accompanied by an
occasional expletive.

The sleuths ran below and found Tige with a fire ax, battering at the door of a stateroom. The blows had a
metallic sound.