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

Most hideous was the hole in the center of the dead man’s chest. A cannon ball going through might have left
such a path.

The dead man was the attendant to whom Doc Savage had given the suit.

"Blaze!" the homely Monk choked. "Lookit!"

A miniature devil carved from agate stood on the floor near the corpse.
The floor was of concrete, and the little devil stood perfectly upright on it. The height of the thing could be
more than spanned by a man’s hand; but the workmanship of it, the proportioning, the carving, was perfect.

It was a rather glassy red in color.

Monk leaned over to pick the thing up. He touched it, howled and wrenched his hand back.

"It’s hot!" he squalled.




Chapter II. ACCIDENT CASE
MONK GASPED, "what killed the guy, Doc?"

Doc Savage, apparently not hearing, dropped a handkerchief over the little satanic image. It was too hot to
hold in the bare hands, but did not quite burn the handkerchief. He picked it up.

"Come on!" he rapped.

They ran through the hallway searching, but found nothing before the crowd, drawn by the cries and finding of
the body, overran the place.

"Hm-m-m," Monk scratched the bristles atop his bullet-shaped head. "It would be kinda hard to find anything
now. But, say, this is the queerest dang thing I ever saw!"

Monk started to say something else, then gave a violent jerk. He had just noted that Doc was carrying a
bundle under his right arm—the stratosphere suit which the airport attendant had been directed to put with
the rest of the baggage. This suggested things to Monk.

"Lookit, Doc!" he gulped. "Remember the funny odor? It was on that suit!"

Instead of answering that question, Doc Savage, who had paused to examine the little satan image, said,
"Here’s something almost as strange. Notice the face of this image." The bronze man handed Monk a tiny
magnifying glass.

Monk observed the face of the little devil image. The workmanship was exquisite.

"Recognize the face?" Doc asked.

"Yours!" Monk squalled. "Doc, this thing has your face!"