"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 074 - World's Fair Goblin" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

It seemed sensible to learn the cause of Uppercue’s flight.

The door at the top of the steps down which Uppercue had plunged from his laboratory was still open.
Inside, more steel steps led downward in a steep flight, ending in a long, narrow corridor with only a
single dim light at the far end—a passageway that was all of a hundred feet in length.

Moving through the underground passage, Doc Savage—his sense of direction was
well-developed—knew that he must be somewhere beneath the huge Perisphere. The corridor ended at
a heavy-paneled door, and this was also open. The bronze man had to duck as he entered the room
beyond.

He was now in a modern laboratory, well-lighted, and containing many of the newest scientific inventions.
Doc Savage recognized gadgets that were still supposed to be in experimental state. A scientist himself,
he appreciated these machines that Uppercue had designed.

On a workbench nearby was a small model of a generator, and something familiar about the machine
held the bronze man’s attention for a moment. Then, his observing eyes moved to other objects in the
room.

It was blood on the floor that suddenly absorbed his attention. He bent down. His eyes always sought
things easily overlooked, such as long reddish hairs that were stuck in these bloodstains. They were the
same kind of hairs that had been caught on the rubber lab apron.

The red smears led to another, smaller doorway across the room, an opening that was like the heavy
steel entrance to a vault. There was a lever that worked massive lock tumblers. The door was open.
Light came from somewhere beyond.

Doc Savage moved forward, and was surprised when he saw what lay past that vault door. Another
laboratory. Even greater than the first one. There was a high-domed ceiling, and heavy pieces of
machinery made the place look like an electrical powerhouse. Nothing was in operation, though the place
was fully lighted. The blood trail stopped at the threshold to this larger room—as though someone had
been dragged as far as the doorway and then picked up.

A small sound now came from the Man of Bronze, a sound that was a thrilling, low, exotic, as soft as a
tropical wind filtering through jungle growth at night; it seemed to emanate from everywhere, yet
nowhere, although actually it came from the bronze man’s throat, and was a sound he unconsciously
made in moments of mental excitement.

It was very strange that Professor Uppercue should have such elaborate laboratories here at the
Fair—but Doc’s trailing was not the result of that. Nor of seeing the blood trail. Instead, he felt the
presence of someone watching him. A slight sound, probably. He stood very still, listening. Then he
moved toward a massive machine, located in one darkened corner.

Someone—something—had moved behind that towering piece of steel and gears. The bronze man’s
footsteps were soundless as he reached the spot and worked his way carefully along one side of the
machine.

He heard a faint swishing sound. It could have been the noise a huge person makes when trying to move
a foot cautiously. The floor here was cement, and the touch of a heavy foot—no matter how