"Eric Flint - TOG 02 - 1824, The Arkansas War" - читать интересную книгу автора (Flint Eric)

Houston shook his head again. тАЬHard to believe, isnтАЩt it? Why, thereтАЩs people sayI caused the trouble
with all the runaway slaves, even thoughтАФto any fair and judicious manтАФitтАЩs obvious as the nose in front
of his face that the trouble was caused by that blasted Calhoun and his exclusion business.тАЭ

He raised the knife a couple of inches above the table and brought the heavy pommel down. Hard.

тАЬNo, sir!тАЭ he bellowed. Baxter must have jumped the same two inches above his chairтАФand the glare
suddenly vanished. Perhaps heтАЩd finally remembered that that same voice had once bellowed orders
across a battlefield, where British regulars had been beaten.

тАЬNo, sir,тАЭ Houston repeated, forcibly if not as loudly. тАЬCalhounтАЩs to blameтАФhim and every one of those
Barbary killers of his. Going around the way they have, murdering black folk for no reason.тАЭ

Houston looked very, very big now, hunched like a buffalo at the table. That huge knife was held in a
hand of a size to match. His left hand was clenched into a fist that looked pretty much like a small ham.

Suddenly, the buffalo vanished, replaced by HoustonтАЩs earlier cheerful smile.

тАЬBut, nowтАФwhy am I carrying on like this? IтАЩm sure a reasonable-looking man like yourself has no
quarrel with me.тАЭ

The steak had arrived. AkinsтАЩs wife shoved the plate into NedтАЩs hands. тАЬGet it over there quick,тАЭ she
hissed. тАЬMaybe we can still get out of this without the place being torn down.тАЭ

The innkeeper hurried over to the table. By now, he wasnтАЩt actually worried about the tavern itself being
wrecked. Meanest man in northern Kentucky or not, it was plain as day that Jack Baxter was thoroughly
cowed. That still left the problem of cleaning the floor.

Akins was proud of that floor, tarnation. Real wood. And he didnтАЩt want to think about the howls his
wife would put up, having to scour blood from it. Several quarts of blood, from the looks of that knife.
Not to mention maybe eight feet of intestine.

He planted the plate in front of Houston. тАЬIтАЩll get you a fork.тАЭ

тАЬDonтАЩt bother,тАЭ Houston growled. тАЬCanтАЩt stand forks. Never use тАЩem except at my wifeтАЩs table. Well,
and my father-in-lawтАЩs, of course.тАЭ

There was that, too. The buffalo whoтАЩd broken British regulars in front of the Capitol, and then again at
New Orleans, also happened to be married to the presidentтАЩs daughter.

Jack Baxter was just about as dumb as he was mean. But it seemed his intelligence was rising in
proportion to the way he was slumping in his chair.

Houston seized the whole steak with his left hand, shoved it into his mouth, and began sawing off a
chunk with the knife.

тАЬGoo teakтАЭ he mumbled. After chewing more or less the way a lion chewsтАФtwice; swallowтАФhe
lowered the meat slightly and said: тАЬMy compliments to the good wife, Mr. Akins. Why, this steak is
cooked proper, for a change!тАЭ