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

approaching a rather odd sort of civilization.
“You'll love this place, dear,” said Glacia.

We got closer.

“For God's sake!” I said.

“There!” said Glacia. “I told you. Quaint, isn't it?”

“You mean this is a hotel?”

“Yes.”

“But what—”

“Oh, it isn't a bit like the ordinary hotel,” Glacia explained. “That's probably what makes it the place to
be seen. Lots of Hollywood people come here. Nothing around here is supposed to be quite
commonplace.”

I could see that it wasn't commonplace. The buildings were made of native stone and enormous logs in an
utterly bizarre architectural plan, like one of those hairbrained plans that artists think up for the magazines
when they are handed a story of a visit to Mars or some other planet to illustrate. The structures hadn't
been skimped on size, either, I discovered, when we drove into a tunnel-like portico that would have
accommodated a locomotive.

There was a whispering sound, a big door closed quietly behind us, and we were greeted by a rush of
cold conditioned air that seemed approximately zero. Outside the temperature must be past a hundred.

“You'll love it,” Glacia said.

“You're not,” I said, “implying that this is going to be my place of residence?”

“Certainly. Why not?”

“There's a slight matter of dollars involved. Or don't they use them for legal tender around here?”

“Oh, that's taken care of,” said Glacia.

“Is it? You don't say. I'd like to know—”

What I wanted to know about was this job, which was rather elusive it seemed to me, but three more
Indians stalked out of the place and without a word captured my bag and disappeared inside with it. Two
Indians carried the bag. The other walked behind them. They hadn't made a sound.

“Do they scalp anybody?” I asked.

“They're bellhops. Don't be silly,” Glacia said.

“What do they charge you for a room around here?”