"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 285 - Fountain of Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

other guests to learn if Johnny Craver had really fulfilled his boast of coming to these unwelcome
preserves, and Margo was considering herself to be something quite unnecessary, when she suddenly
found herself the victim of opportunity.

Said opportunity happened to be none other than Johnny Craver, who sauntered into the reception hall in
a manner as debonair as Cranston's.

"Hello, Margo." Johnny's greeting came in a warm, confident tone. "I hoped to find you here, though I
guess you wouldn't thank me for it. Finding it frightfully dull already, aren't you?"

Margo nodded. She could have said that there was nothing dull about Johnny. His face had a warm flush;
his eyes were keen and carried a calculating stare. He was different from the old Johnny with the wild,
distorted stare; different, too, from the rather mild and uncertain young man that Margo had met this
afternoon.

"You've been through the ordeal?"

Johnny's gesture toward the marble staircase signified what he meant by the word.

"Yes, I've met the Claybournes," Margo acknowledged. "I suppose they'll be surprised to see you here."

"If Claybourne is, he won't show it," assured Johnny. "Not unless we poked an apple in his mouth. I've
never seen a pig express astonishment in any other way. My simile fits Claybourne rather well, don't you
think?"

"In a way, yes," compromised Margo. "He does look as though he's lived on the fat of the land."

"Most of it went to his head, then," retorted Johnny. His half-smile made it difficult to guess how serious
he might be. "Well, I suppose I should pay the family my disrespects. Meanwhile, do me a favor, will
you?"

"What's that, Johnny?"

"Look for a girl in a blue evening gown." For the first time, Margo noted a vague expression in both
Johnny's gaze and tone. "I'm supposed to meet her, but I can't seem to recall her name."

Margo's puzzled stare must have registered with Johnny for he steadied instantly and laughed off his
remark in jocular style.

"Just a whim of mine," said Johnny. "Sapphire Springs made me fond of blue. Thought I ought to meet a
girl who preferred the same color. Too bad your gown is green, Margo!"

Johnny wandered into the reception line and soon was meeting Claybourne and his equally portly wife,
who was heavily encrusted with jewels. There were two younger members of the family, a Jerome
Claybourne Fourth and a daughter of fifteen who seemed to be outracing her slightly older brother in the
avoirdupois derby that characterized the Claybournes. As she watched the meeting Margo was more
than slightly astonished.

Jerome Claybourne gave a slight start at seeing Johnny, but the young man must have smoothed it in a
really affable style, for next Claybourne was not only shaking hands but clapping Johnny on the back,