"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 039 - The Seven Agate Devils" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

"Exactly!" Doc Savage said. "Now, let us look around."

The bronze man had spent almost no time around the body of the slain attendant, but this did not mean he
was not going to make an investigation, for he now roamed over the operations office, flake-gold eyes
searching. Finding nothing, he went outside. He was soon recognized, and became the center of a seething
throng of autograph hunters. He gave up the search.

Some time later, Monk stood on tiptoe under the brightly lighted marquee of the administration building and
stared over the thinning mass of parked cars. He frowned and shook his small head.

"A car was to meet us, wasn’t it, Doc?" he asked. "Funny it don’t show up."

"Nothing was said about the car having a driver," Doc Savage reminded him.
MONK still carried the black document case, and Doc now took this, opened it. It held, among other things,
money and at least two, folded telegrams. Doc removed one of the telegrams, opened it and extended it for
the scrutiny of Monk and Ham. It read:

DOC SAVAGE

NEW YORK CITY

BLUE CAR LICENSE CALIFORNIA 9K7376 WILL BE AT AIRPORT FOR YOUR USE.

MONTGOMERY MEDWIG PELL

"Uh-huh," Monk grunted. "Let’s look around."

They found the car shortly. It surprised them somewhat, for it was a very big, very expensive town car, with
the driver’s compartment open.

"Match you shyster, to see who drives," Monk suggested to Ham.

"Nothing doing!" snorted Ham. "You look the part! The job is yours."

Monk got behind the wheel. Doc and Ham entered the rear, and the machine was put in motion. Doc Savage
rolled down the glass partition which separated them from the driver’s compartment, in order that Monk might
hear what was being said.

Progress proved very slow. There was something of a traffic jam near the airport.

From the front seat, Monk called, "Hey, read that first telegram we got, will you? I’d like to hear it again."

Doc Savage drew back the flap of the document case and extracted a second folded telegram. The traffic jam
was holding their speed down, so Monk had time to read it:

DOC SAVAGE

NEW YORK CITY