"Henry Kuttner - This is the House UC" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kuttner Henry)

"Not those mice," Michaela had remarked. "They're too smart. One morning you're going down in the cellar and find a trap reset, with a tiny glass of whiskey as the bait. That'll be the end of you."

Melton was not amused.

A shrunken little man in baggy pants and a suede jacket appeared suddenly on the staircase landing and looked at Melton. Melton looked back in a baffled manner.

"Furnace trouble, huh?" the man said. "Your wife said you couldn't figure it out."

Michaela came into view. "This is Mr. Garr. I phoned him today."

Garr's leathery face cracked into a grin. "Got my name in the phone book under about everything," he said. "Wiring, plumbing, paintingЧplenty of folks get trouble that ain't just in one line. Like your furnace." He walked over to examine it.^"TinsmithЧfurnace manЧelectrician Чyou got to be all of 'em to get along. What's the matter with the thing?"

"The blower doesn't work," Melton said, avoiding Michaela's accusing stare.

Garr used a flashlight, traced wires, and did things with a screwdriver. Sparks scattered. He finally examined the hydrostat atop the boiler, lifted its cap, and clucked. "Leak," he said. "See the steam coming out? All rusted. The wires are grounded."

"Can you fix it?"

"Gotta get another hydrostat. I'll pick one up, Mr.Ч uhЧMelton. You don't need a blower much anyway. That all?"

Michaela said firmly, "No, it isn't. We put a few shovels of coal in that furnace three days ago, and it's still going."

Garr didn't seem impressed. He looked into the furnace, nodded in a pleased sort of way/and asked, "How many shovels didja say?"

"Four," Melton told him.

"Ain't enough," Garr said helpfully. "You keep the coal a few inches lower than the door, see? That way, you get better heat."

"The house is too hot now. How do you make a furnace go out?"

"She goes out. Just leave her alone. Or shake her down through the grate."

"She won't shake. Try it yourself."

Garr tried it. "That's right. Guess she's fused. Ill have to get some tools and new grates to fix that, maybe." He straightened and peered around the cellar. "Darn nice house you got here, though. She's well built. Good, solid beams."

"Mice," Melton said.

"Li'1 field mice. You get 'em all around this part of the country. You keep a cat?"

"No."

"Keep one," Garr advised. "I got one, but she's always having kittens. Next time she has a batch, I'll save one for you. Yep, you got a nice house here. Anything else need fixing?"

Melton refrained from mentioning that Garr hadn't fixed anything yet. "You might look at the refrigerator," he suggested. "It's been giving some trouble."

Upstairs, in the kitchen, the refrigerator looked as though butter would melt in its mouth, which was true. The ice cubes were still red, but Garr no doubt decided the Meltons were freezing strawberry pop or cherry juice. He produced a can of oil and squirted some into the motor. "Don't ever use heavy oil on this," he observed. "She'll gum up on you." He indicated bottles of beer in the refrigerator. "Good brand, that. I always get it."

"Have a glass," Melton said. He poured for the two of them. Michaela refused beer and went in search of the dregs of her cocktail. Melton perched himself on the edge of the sink, kicking his long legs idly, and watched the refrigerator balefully.