"Easton, Tom - Real Men Don't Bark at Fire Hydrants" - читать интересную книгу автора (Easton Thomas A)

still there, still on his knees, still barking at the fire hydrant.

Mickey shook his head. How much longer could he keep it up?

As Mickey watched, someone finally slowed as if to join the few spectators.
He was a tall man, straight-backed and dignified despite the ragged overcoat
hanging from his shoulders and the battered top hat squashing his hair into a
fringe of gray curls. His wide mouth was stretched into a grin that struck
Mickey as just as goofy as the executive's barks.

When he reached the executive, the newcomer stopped, reached into a pocket
of his overcoat, and began to withdraw a rope hand over hand.

The rope coiled on the pavement between the newcomer and the still-barking
executive. It seemed endless, and within moments several more passersby stopped
to watch, their mouths half open like those of children watching a stage
magician.

When twenty feet of rope were on the ground, the newcomer fashioned a loop,
stood, and dropped the noose over the barking executive's head as if he were
leashing a dog.

Two of the onlookers laughed out loud.

The executive immediately leaped to his feet. He barked once more, a shrill
yip, threw off the noose, and glared at the other man. Then he put on his
suitcoat, tossed his legal pad into his attache case, picked up the case, and
stalked off.

The ragged newcomer shrugged elaborately, yapped once at the executive's
back, and winked at the onlookers. Then he undid the noose, returned the rope to
his pocket, and followed the executive down the street and around the corner.


"You wouldn't believe it, Kilroy!" The shepherd-beagle mix gaped his jaws
and rolled over on the rug so Mickey could scratch his belly.

"What wouldn't he believe?" The blonde in the kitchen doorway held a glass
of amber liquid in each hand.

"Rocky!" Mickey jumped to his feet, grinning. He hadn't expected to see
Rochelle Forte for another hour. In a moment, his hands were on her sides and
their lips were meeting.

"Careful!"

"What do you mean, 'Careful!'?"

"Take your damned drink so I can beat you off!" But she was smiling as she
swore at him.