"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 179 - The Green Master" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

Ham looked relieved, but bristled. “Say now, short and homely,” he said. “You know who you're
speaking to with that tone?”

Monk said he knew. He said he was speaking to what would soon be a grease-spot on the wall. He
picked up a flask of foul-smelling chemical and heaved it at Ham. The latter ducked, got a whiff of the
smell after the flask smashed, and departed in haste.

“I knew that would get him,” Monk said, locking the lab door behind Ham. “He prefers to go around
smelling like a rose.”
MONK told Doc what had happened. “I didn't want Ham hearing that. He would never stop ribbing
me,” Monk explained. “That's about the way it was. They began following me, first a babe, then a tall
blond guy, then another tall one just as blond, and when I collared the latter, he got me to believing
everything he said. He would say something I knew damned well wasn't the truth, and there I would
stand believing it and agreeing with him.”

“I can see why you didn't want Ham to hear this,” Doc said.

“Sure. He would think I was crazy. Maybe I am.” Monk dropped into a chair, grimacing. “My God, do
you reckon I could be dropping my marbles?”

“Let's get it straight,” Doc said. “You didn't know these people?”

“I never saw them before.”

“And they weren't familiar with the city?”

“They acted,” Monk said, “as if they'd never been in any kind of city before.”

“They weren't Americans?”

“No. Or the guy who ran the razzle-dazzle on me wasn't.”

“What nationality?”

“That,” said Monk, “would be a hard one to answer.”

“Care to guess?” Doc asked.

Monk hesitated, then said, “I may be putting my neck out on this, but I would guess some South
American aboriginal origin, because I caught traces of Incan inflection, the ancient Incan tongue, because
of the lax consonant delivery, and the syllable stressing was on the first syllable. There wasn't much
Oriental lilt, and there was quite a glottal stop such as the old Hawaiian language had. Mind you, the guy
spoke English, but it was English he had learned from somebody.”

Doc nodded. “If you analyzed it that close, I doubt if you are putting your neck out.”

“I didn't really place the guy. But primitive South American would be my idea.”

“What,” Doc asked, “about the green stone?”