"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 109 - The Too-Wise Owl" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

the things that were startling about him were the small things. The nature of his eyes, like pools of flake
gold, perpetually stirred by small currents. The amazing timbre of his voice—like thunder under control,
as someone had once put it. The sinews in the backs of his hands and in his neck which hinted at the
physical power he possessed.

The Man of Bronze, as the newspapers called him occasionally, was a remarkable combination of mental
ability and physical brawn, trained and directed since childhood toward the unusual occupation which he
followed, the career of righting wrongs and punishing evildoers.

Doc Savage did not follow his unorthodox profession for any impractically idealistic reasons. If there
were an idealist, it had been his father, who had placed him in the hands of the world’s leading scientists
in specialized lines for training. The idea had been to create a superb human machine for fighting the
battles of the weak. The project had been a success.

Actually, no normal man is likely to be a professional Sir Galahad, unless he has good reasons. Doc
Savage was normal in that respect. He had his reasons.

His reason was excitement. He liked it. The fire and crackle of danger in far places, the impact of the
unexpected. He was one of those men—and they are few—who thrive on things that keep other men
awake nights and give them gray hair.

He had gathered together a group of five associates—Monk Mayfair and Ham Brooks were two—who
shared his liking for excitement.

They had, the bronze man and his associates, made a reputation that had filtered to the far corners of the
earth. They could get recognition from the authorities of any nation. Bandits in outer Mongolia, thieves in
Paris, had been known suddenly to shut up shop and lie very low upon getting the mere information that
Doc Savage was in the vicinity.

All of which seemed to mean nothing to the boy in uniform. He extended the owl. "Here," he said. "This
chicken is for you, I guess."

Doc Savage took the owl. The bird accepted the transfer placidly, looking the bronze man over with one
eye.

"The boss says," said the boy, "for you to ask your friend not to stick his owls in our candy jars no
more."

"Did your boss see the man who brought the owl?" Doc asked.

"Uh-huh."

"We might talk to him, then," Doc said.

The bronze man placed the owl on a chair. The bird had become interested in Monk. He fell to watching
the homely chemist with gimlet intensity.

Doc Savage went downstairs with the boy.