"066 (B058) - The Munitions Master (1938-08) - Harold Davis" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

Once more the little man's head jerked around. He swung his bread out of the way of an overenthusiastic celebrator, swore at him fiercely, while the palms of his hands were damp suddenly.



No one paid any attention. That is, no one human did.





THE peculiar-appearing creature could hardly have been called human, even if it was clad conventionally. Its hairy face indicated it was of simian, not human descent.



A tail hat was perched grotesquely on the creature's head. Long arms, half crooked, fell below the knees. It moved erect, but with a gliding motion.



It saw the bread, and its tiny eyes lighted. It slid resolutely after the thin man. A long arm reached out. A paw opened.



The little man's head turned. He saw, just in time. He gave a frightened scream, snatched the bread away.



There was a sudden commotion. Two figures plowed through the crowd.



"Chemistry!" shouted one. "Daggonit, ain't you got better sense than to try and steal food?"



The little man's eyes goggled. His head jerked forward like a turtle's. And from around him came a roar of good-natured amusement. The little man's amazement was justified.



For the man who had called out startlingly resembled the ape who had reached for the bread. He was a little thicker, but he was also wearing a tall hat. His arms, likewise, fell below the knees. And his eyes appeared buried in gristle until they were as tiny as those of the ape.



Behind him, a tall, slender man, immaculately dressed, doubled up in laughter.



"He thinks he's seeing double!" he roared. "And I don't blame him!"