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

waved at a gadget which, without the necessity of demolishing and pulverizing a sample of the stone and
running it through a lot of chemical tests, would give a complete analysis of the molecular composition of
the fragment.

“I have,” Doc said.

“Huh?” Monk remembered Doc had been working with the fluoroscopic apparatus when he came in.
“That what you were doing?”

Doc nodded. “Not,” he added, “for the first time, either. I've checked the atomic structure of that rock
half a dozen times, each time believing it just couldn't prove to be what it turns out to be.”

“Which is what?”

“A rock,” Doc said. “A common garden, middle-of-the-road, laying-on-the-beach variety of pebble.
Technically, it's a type of magma of the trachyte type, considerably weathered, but not at all unusual, as
far as chemical tests and inspection indicate.”

“You mean it's just a rock?”

“Exactly.”

“But it stays warm.”

“Yes.”
“It must be our imagination,” Monk said. “I'll call Ham in and let's try him. He's a cold-blooded cuss and
that should settle that.”

Ham Brooks came in, grinning, and said, “I'm allowed back in the human race, am I?” He had been
waiting in the library, evidently, for Monk to cool off.

Monk peered at him, and decided, “You had the intercom turned on. You've been eavesdropping.”

“It was already turned on,” Ham told him. “I merely didn't turn it off,” he added virtuously.

“O.K., feel the rock anyway,” Monk growled.

Ham did so, and said, “Warm. Not hot. But warm, as if someone had been holding it in his hand for quite
a while.” Ham eyed Monk thoughtfully, and asked, “Now what are you trying to pull on me, having me
feel of a warm rock?”

“Nothing,” Monk said. “Shut up.”

“What,” Ham asked, “did this babe look like?”

“What babe?”

“The gal who followed you before the long blond guy took over,” Ham said.

“You were listening!” Monk yelled.