"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 069 - The Green Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

had sped past his head. He had seen nothing, heard nothing; but death was trailing him.

Despite the worry in his eyes, the tall man did not appear afraid; rather, he seemed irritated, as if he had
been interrupted while performing an important task. Suddenly, he paused. A shot had sounded from
ahead.

A peculiar, almost unbelieving look came to the man’s eyes. That shot would indicate that other white
men were near——and that was impossible. He was hundreds of miles from the closest village. There
could be no help, yet there had been a shot.

He increased his speed quickly, running easily, winding and twisting through the big trees, dodging
underbrush, racing through wild country that never before had been explored. A gun was in the holster at
his hip, but he ignored that. Only two shots were left in that gun. And two shots could mean nothing,
when he never had been given even a glimpse of those who pursued him.

Then the tall man’s speed slowed. His face became puzzled and questioning, nostrils twitching uneasily.
Premonition of danger, of unseen, terrible danger, made the short hairs rise on his neck, sent icy thrills
down his spine despite the heat.

All sound had ceased. The jungle was still——a strange, frightening stillness. Not a bird stirred; not a
monkey chattered in the trees.



THE heavy, moisture-laden air carried a faint odor, an unusual, though not unpleasant odor, such as
might have been caused by a field of flowers. But there were no flowers.

Only for a moment did the tall, thin man hesitate. Then his pale lips tightened. Unconsciously he freed the
gun in its holster. His nerves were tighter than ever before. Ever since dawn he had run with the feeling
that unseen eyes were staring at his back; that every move he made was being watched.

That feeling was gone now. It was as if those who pursued him had quit the chase, had fallen back from a
danger far more vivid and real than any their intended victim might prepare for them. The very absence of
that feeling of being watched made peril more real.

Sunlight suddenly flashed ahead, blinding in its brilliance after the gloom of the jungle. There was a
cleared area directly in front. The cleared area was semicircular in shape. Beyond it were more trees,
then high cliffs.

An unbelieving gasp came from the thin man. His eyes were wide behind the glasses he wore. A strange
sight presented itself to him on those cliffs, a sight that seemed unreal, as if he were visioning a scene from
some bygone age.

Long legs pounding, he burst from the jungle, started across the cleared area toward that scene. For just
an instant he felt strong, able to conquer anything he might meet. Then an expression almost of terror
swept over his features.

He knew he was lost; knew that he had left one danger only to encounter another, one that he could not
defeat. Fiercely he turned, tried to run back toward the comparative safety of the jungle. His knees
buckled under him, and a thin cry came from his lips.