"L. Sprague De Camp - The Stolen Dormouse" - читать интересную книгу автора (De Camp L Sprague)

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The Stolen
Dormouse

By L. Sprague de Camp




THE riot started during the Los Angeles Radio Exposition, in the third week of February, 2236. The
foresighted managers of the Exposition had put the Crosley and Stromberg exhibits as far apart as
possible. But they could not prevent the members of these companies from meeting occasionally.
Thus, on the day in question, His Integrity, Billiam Bickham-Smith, chairman of Stromberg,
had passed into the recesses of the Stromberg booth, leaving a froth of lesser nobility and
whitecollars in his wake, when a couple of Crosley whitecollars dropped an injudicious remark
within hearing.
A Stromberg whitecollar said to one of these stiffly: тАЬDid I hear you say our prefab
houses leaked, sir?тАЭ
тАЬYou did, sir,тАЭ replied one of the Crosleys evenly.
тАЬAre you picking a fight with me, sir?тАЭ The Stromberg fingered his duelling stick.
тАЬI am not. I am merely stating a fact, sir.тАЭ
тАЬSlandering our product is the same as picking a fight, sir.тАЭ
тАЬWhen I state a fact I state a fact, sir. Good day.тАЭ The Crosley turned his back.
The StrombergтАЩs stick hissed through the air and whacked the CrosleyтАЩs skull. The
CrosleyтАЩs skull gave forth a muffled clang, whereupon the Stromberg knew that his enemy wore a
steel cap disguised by a wig.
Now, no member of the nobility would have hit an enemy from behind. But the Stromberg was
a mere low-born whitecollar, which somewhat excused his action in the eyes of his contemporaries.
The Crosley who had been hit, shrieked тАЬFoul!тАЭ and broke his assailantтАЩs nose with a neat
backhand. Strombergs boiled out of the exhibit, pulling on padded gloves and duelling goggles.
At that instant, Horace Crosley Juniper-Hallett passed on his way to the Crosley booth to
take up his outhanding for the day. His job was to pass out catalogues, printed in bright colors
on slick paper, describing the Crosley exhibits, and also the many commodities other than radios,
such as automobiles and microscopes, manufactured by this тАЬradioтАЭ company. Exhibit-goers, unable
to resist the lure of something for nothing, would collect up to twenty pounds of these brochures
in the course of their visit, and like as not, drop them in a heap beside the gate on their way
out. Horace Juniper-Hallett himself was of medium height and slimтАФskinny, if you want the brutal
truth. His complexion was fair and his hair pale blond. He had twice given up trying to grow a
mustache; after a month of trying, nobody could see the results of his cultivation except himself.
Take a good look at him, for this ineffectual-looking youth is our hero.
As he was barely twenty-two, and not too mature for his age, his behavior patterns had not
yet hardened in the mold of experience. Just now, of the several conflicting impulses that seized
him, that of playing peacemaker was uppermost. He ran up and pulled the nearest of the embattled
partisans back. His eye caught that of Justin Lane-Walsh, heir to the Stromberg vice-presidential
chair. He shouted: тАЬHere, you, help me separate тАШem!тАЭ
тАЬBah!тАЭ roared the heir to the vice presidency. тАЬI hate all Crosleys, тАШspecially you.
Defend yourself!тАЭ And he advanced,
whirling his duelling stick around his head. He and JuniperHallett were whacking away merrily, as
were all the other members of the feuding companies in sight, when the police arrived.