"R. A. Lafferty - Stories 5" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lafferty R A)

me, you would make it today. That would show that your appreciation and
affection are above mere fortune. And, if you can't lose, as you say that you
cannot, you will have your money in the same amount won back in two days'
time, and you will have made me happy two days longer."
"All right, I guess so then, Clarie. Yes, I'll give it to you today.
Right now. I'll write you a check right now."
"Oh, you are a treasure, Aurie. You are a double treasure. You can't
guess how double a treasure you are!"
The wonderful Tri-county Fair was near its end, and its Great Bicycle
Race with it. It was the last day of the race. Hubert Saint Nicholas on number
seven, the Supreme, the French bicyclette with the mechanical advantage, was
leading the field by only one minute in total elapsed time going into that
last day's racing. There were those who said that Hubert could win any time he
wanted to, and that he stayed so close only to keep the bets a-growing.
And the bets did grow. The mysterious gambler with the fine figure and
the extraordinary appearance, Rakesly Rivertown, was still betting the field
to win against number seven. And a still more mysterious gambler, working
through agents, was betting on number seven to place, but not to win. These
latter bets were quickly covered. Number seven would win, unless some terrible
calamity overtook that entry; and, in the case of such terrible calamity,
number seven would not finish second, would not finish at all most likely.
The seven intrepid racers were off on their final, mad, twenty-mile
circuit. Interest was high, especially with moneyed gamblers who followed the
riders from the grandstand with their binoculars. At no place was the winding,
circuit course more than four miles from the grandstand; and there were only
three or four places, not more than three hundred yards in all, where the
racers were out of sight of the higher tiers of the grandstand. One of those
places was where Little Egg Creek went through Little Egg Meadow. Something
mysterious happened near Little Egg Creek Crossing that neither the libretto
nor the enacted drama itself makes clear.
Hubert Saint Nicholas, riding the French bicyclette, number seven, the
Supreme, with the rear-wheel drive and the mechanical advantage, was unsaddled
from his mount and knocked unconscious. The race master later and officially
entered this incident as "A careless rider knocked off his bicycle by a tree
branch," though Hubert swore that there wasn't a tree branch within a hundred
yards of that place.
"I was slugged by a lurker in the weeds," Hubert said. "It was a
criminal and fraudulent assault and I know who did it." Then he cried, "Oh,
the perfidy of women!" This latter seemed to be an unconnected outcry; perhaps
Hubert had suffered a concussion.
Fortunately (for whom?) the alternate rider for number seven, the
Mysterious (though duly certified) Masked Rider, was in the vicinity of the
accident and took control of the bicyclette, the Supreme, and continued the
race. But number seven, though having a one-minute lead ere the race began,
did not win. Number seven did come in second though in total elapsed time.
The Great Bicycle Race is a quaint little drama, with not much plot, but
with a pleasant and bucolic atmosphere that grows more pleasant every time the
drama is played back. It is a thoroughly enjoyable "Journey into Summertime".
And there were a few more seconds of those intrusive "ghost" voices
breaking into the closing moments of the pastoral drama.