"Robeson, Kenneth - Doc Savage 1938 02 - The Mountain Monster" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

Buck Dixon opened his mouth to scream again. No sound came forth.

Chapter II. THE MONSTER KILLS
JOHN ALDEN came awake with his rifle in his hands. He had the impression that he
was reliving a nightmare, that he was hearing again Buck Dixon’s screams of two
nights before.
Then he caught a faint whiff of the cloying, sickly sweet odor. He knew it was
no nightmare.
A hysterical laugh came from him. Frantically he rushed outside.
He saw The Monster just as it grabbed Buck Dixon!
Later, John Alden tried to picture just what did occur. It was all over in less
than five seconds. But at the time it seemed horribly slow, as if he were
witnessing some fiendish scene in slow motion.
The Monster had come practically to a stop. Two weird twisted legs on the front
of its loathsome body bent down, two pincers reached out, wrapped themselves
about Buck Dixon’s body.
The burly veteran was whisked into the air as if he were weightless. Then the
monster paused for an instant, apparently savoring the feast ahead of it. Buck
Dixon’s arms and legs beat futilely. He was twisted about, disappeared into The
Monster’s maw.
The rifle came to John Alden’s shoulder. Calmly, he pumped bullet after bullet
at the hideous monstrosity.
The crash of the rifle was echoed by dull, vicious smacks as the bullets reached
their mark.
Slowly, deliberately, the spiderous shape turned, ran toward John Alden. The
foul odor freshened.
Then it was that panic seized the lanky engineer. He jammed fresh cartridges
into the rifle. He pulled the trigger as fast as he could lever bullets into the
barrel.
The bullets had no effect!
The rifle dropped from John Alden’s hands, even as Buck Dixon had dropped his
weapon.
The Monster towered almost above him. Once more the cruel pincers reached out.
The pincers waved in the air. They waved almost mockingly. The loathsome beast
turned. Its legs spurted across the ground.
It headed directly for the ridge of trees. As John Alden stood frozen, the huge
spider leaped into the air, vanished over the trees.
John Alden fainted!

IT was dawn when John Alden recovered consciousness. The rain had stopped. His
head was clear, his brain alert. All sign of the hideous odor had disappeared.
But close to him, not a dozen feet away, were the huge tracks of The Monster.
The lanky engineer scrambled up. And now he wished he had listened more closely
to the story of The Monster.
The Indian who had told him the legends had gone into much detail. John Alden
had laughed, had paid little attention. He was not laughing now, he was trying
hard to recall what he had heard.
"For many years my people shunned this valley," the Indian had said. "Perhaps
they should yet."
He had been an Indian educated in the States. John Alden had thought it strange