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

"It’s silly, of course," Chelton Raymond said at last.

"Yop," agreed Tige. He poked a bony finger thoughtfully into the hole the bullet had made in the head of the
chair dummy. "This here ain’t so silly, though."

"No." Chelton Raymond, hardening his lips together, was suddenly harsh and wolfish of feature. "Listen, Tige;
I’m thinking this is more than you and I can handle."

"A Raymond ain’t ‘feared a’ no man," muttered Tige.

"Hell, no, but this Squeaking Goblin isn’t a man. He’s been dead more than eighty years, and he was almost
a hundred years old when he died, if there’s anything to the story about him that my granddad told me."

"We ain’t spook fighters, fur a fact," Tige agreed.

"That’s the idea. Did you ever hear of Doc Savage, Tige?"

"Who?"

"Doc Savage."

Tige puckered his brows. "Kain’t say as I have."

"Your education has been badly neglected, Tige," said Chelton Raymond, and there was no levity in his tone.



Chapter II. THE SAVAGE SUMMONS
CHELTON RAYMOND opened the stateroom door, swung outside and moved along the corridor, the silent
and staring detectives making a path for his passage.

The sleuths were curious, but when the tall, expensively dressed blond man made no suggestion that they
accompany him, they did not move to do so.

Tige trailed Chelton Raymond. They stepped through bulkhead doors, mounted a companionway and entered
a cubicle walled with instrument panels—the radio room. A rather meek young man was handling the
instruments.

"I want a shore line," said Chelton Raymond briskly. "Get the Aquatania Hotel in Bar Harbor, hooking up by
telephone."

The radio man flicked switches; generators began to hum. After some moments of low-voiced speaking, the
operator spun in his swivel chair.
"Your connection, Mr. Raymond," he said. "Radio-land line hookup."

Tige looked on, as his blond and more sophisticated cousin lifted a mouthpiece-receiver set, and there was
an almost open-mouthed wonder in the gangling mountaineer’s expression. The look told plainly that Tige
was awed by the fact that one could converse from the boat to shore with such ease. Radio transmitters were
evidently foreign to Tige’s environment.