"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 173 - Once Over Lightly" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

“What for?” I asked. “I won't sleep.”

But evidently I did sleep. I think I did, anyway, because there was a period when nightmares and
nighthorses galloped through a zone of muted terror. And once I possibly sat up in bed and looked for
Glacia and she was gone. I say possibly, because I'm not sure; I only know that I lay back—granting that
I ever sat up in the first place—and worried for a long time through a ghastly series of dreams about what
I should do about Glacia being gone. Then finally I got the answer—I should get up and find her.
Whereupon I awakened, unquestionably this time, and looked, and there was Glacia asleep where she
should be on the other bed. I didn't go to sleep again that night. It wasn't worth the effort. I was scared of
the dreams, too.

The sunlight was splattering in through the windows when Glacia arose, showered, wrapped a housecoat
about herself and said, “I'll see how Uncle Waldo is feeling.”

“Is he ill?”

“He wasn't quite himself last night,” Glacia said vaguely, and left.

She came back with her face the color of bread dough that had been mixed two or three days ago.

She said, “Uncle Waldo is—is—” She gagged on whatever the rest was and arched her neck, all of her
body rigid. She held that for a moment. Then she said, “His face—his brains are all over his face.”

Then she went down silently on the floor. Fainted.



Chapter III
HE was a short, wide, furry man with one of the homeliest faces ever assembled, and he wouldn't have to
be encountered in a very dark place to be mistaken for an ape.

“Oh, Yes,” he said. “Another female admirer. We comb them out of the woodwork every morning. . . .
Well, what do you want?”

“I wish to see Doc Savage,” I said.

“That's not hard to arrange. Doc will be passing through the lobby at nine-fifteen. Just be on hand. I
understand they're thinking of putting up grandstand seats.”

“Aren't you funny?”

“Not very,” he said. “Just sarcastic. Look, baby, do you think it's very lady-like to pursue—”

“I want to talk to Doc Savage.”

“I know. But it will be harder to arrange. Still, some do. It happens. One did in his car yesterday, and
assaulted him with a pair of scissors. It scared the hell out of me, but she only wanted to cut off the end
of his necktie, which she did.”

“Stop being a stuffy fool!” I said.