"Stout, Rex - The Rope Dance" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stout Rex)

Rick Duggett approached the desk.

"Listen here," he said, gazing at the lieutenant with a melancholy eye. His voice was slow and
labored, but he made it distinct. "Listen here," he repeated. "I see by the clock yonder that it's
after three. So I've been knocked out for three hours. I came to in there fifteen minutes ago, and
they told me where I was. I guess I'm straightened out now. A gazebo named Henderson gave me
a drink of something from Kansas, and when I closed my eyes because I enjoyed it so much he
lifted a roll of eight hundred dollars and a return ticket to Arizona from my pants pocket. You
got to watch everybody in New York. It was Henderson said that. Perhaps he meant--"

"Wait a minute." The lieutenant arranged the blotter and dipped his pen in the ink. "What's your
name?"

Rick achieved a weary smile. "My name is Billy Boob. Write it down and let me see how it
looks. That's all you'll get, because I'm not exactly anxious to get myself in the papers in this
connection. My rtame is Billy Boob, and I come from Ginkville on Sucker Creek. If that's all I
guess I'll trot along."

THE ROPE DANCE

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7

"I guess you won't," said the lieutenant sharply. "How do you expect us to get your money back
for you if you don't tell us anything? What kind of a looking man was this Henderson? Where
did you meet him?"

"Nothing doing." Agauh Rick smiled wearily. "Strange to say, I forgot to brand him. He wore a
gray suit of clothes, and he had a red face and white teeth, and I met him somewhere talking
about nonrefillable bottles. No use writing anything down, because I'm not making any holler.
I've always had a theory that if a man can't take care of himself he's not fit to have any one else
do the job. The boys would run me off the ranch if they heard of this. I guess I'll trot along."

The policeman grinned. The lieutenant expostulated and argued. But Rick was firm.

"No, Cap, nothing doing on the complaint. You wouldn't catch him, anyway. I'm going home and
get some sleep. So long and much obliged."

He made for the door. But on the threshold he hesitated, then turned.

"There's one thing I'd like to know," he said slowly. "Henderson took a drink just before I did,
and it didn't seem to make him sleepy. Is it a general practice around here to carry two kinds of
booze in one horn?''

At that the lieutenant grinned, too. "Oh, that's one of our eastern refinements," he explained.
"You see, the flask is divided in the middle. If you press the button on the right side you get
Scotch and if you press the one on the left you get something else. Men like Mr. Henderson have
them made to order."