"181 (B182r) - Up From Earth's Center (1949-06) - Lester Dent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

Dr. Karl grinned wryly. "Thank you, madam. Would you tell him Old Doc Linningen called. Tell him also that if he wishes a decent cup of coffee, to drop aboard my schooner this evening sometime."



The old lady stiffened angrily. "What's the matter with my coffee?" she snapped.



Dr. Karl looked surprised, then said, "Why, it's nectar, I'm sure." He had turned away and was halfway to the gate when the old woman suddenly yelled, "I make the best damn coffee in the state of Maine!" and slammed the door.



Grinning, wondering just what the old lady thought the word nectar meant, Dr. Karl walked back toward the waterfront. All routes from the top of Lubec's hill led downward, and presently Dr. Karl began a descent. He found himself walking rapidly, jarringly, as one does down a hill. Then he began running. Not running fast, just taking a series of crow-hops that must have looked rather ridiculous, and really were ridiculous because he couldn't stop himself. Finally, he had to throw out his hands and grasp a picket in a fence, and stopped himself with a jerk.



He rested there a moment to recover. "Sea legs," he muttered, putting in words the answer that seemed to explain his descent of the hill. But in a moment, when he began to descend again, he fell to running, and was helpless against it, and brought himself up only by steering against the side of a building. This happened once more, and he was perspiring and upset in his mind when he reached the foot of the street.



Kroeger, one of the crew, had watched him, and he saw Kroeger conceal a grin. Dr. Karl, irritated, snapped, "Dammit, man, I didn't have a drop!"



"I'm sure you didn't, sir," Kroeger said hastily, then added, "I came ashore in the other dink for supplies. Shall I give you a tow back to the vessel, sir?"



"No, thanks, Kroeger. I learned to row a boat several years ago," Dr. Karl said with a vehemence which he saw at once was excessively childish. But he did row back to the schooner in excellent style, and would have carried off a triumphant return if Gilmore hadn't started screaming and throwing things at him.



There was little sense to Gilmore's squalling, less to the things he threw. He just hurled what he could get his hands on - an oar, a boathook, a cushion, two life preservers, a lead squid used for mackerel trolling, the brass cover off the
compass binnacle. Then Bill Williams, bouncing up from below decks, pinned poor Gilmore's arms and stopped the fusillade.



By the time Dr. Karl climbed thoughtfully aboard, Bill Williams had wrestled Gilmore below, and Kroeger had retrieved the thrown articles, except for the squid and the binnacle cover, which sank. Dr. Karl heard the unmistakable sound of a blow from the cabin, then Bill Williams reappeared, holding his right hand with his left.



"You shouldn't have struck him," Dr. Karl said.



"That's right. I darn near knocked down a knuckle. But that binnacle cover cost good money, didn't it?"



"No more than ten dollars, and he obviously wasn't responsible."