"Yan Larri. The Extraordinary Adventures of Karik and Valya (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

"Certainly." The Professor nodded his head.
"But where have they hidden themselves? Naked . . . without shorts,
without sandals? I don't understand it at all!" Schmidt made a gesture of
hopelessness.
Then he put his hands behind his back, spread out his feet, lowered his
head and gazed solidly at the yellow rectangles of the parquet; then he
suddenly straightened himself up and said confidently:
"Don't worry! We'll find them any minute now. They are here, Professor.
They are simply hiding! You can be sure of that! My Jack has never been
mistaken yet."
The Professor and the photographer proceeded on a tour round all the
rooms; they examined the kitchen and even looked into the dark larder.
Jack listlessly tailed along behind them.
In the dining-room, the stout man opened the doors of the sideboard,
poked his head under the table, and in the bedroom searched with his hands
underneath the bed. But there was no trace of the children in the flat.
"Wherever can they have hidden themselves?" muttered the photographer.
"In my opinion," said the Professor, "they have not been here to-day."
"That's what you think?" questioned Schmidt thoughtfully. "You think
they have not been here? But what do you think, Jack? Are they here or
aren't they?"
Jack barked.
"Here?"
Jack barked again.
"Well, go find them! Go find them, you dog!"
Jack at once cheered up. He threw himself round and once more led the
Professor and Schmidt into the study. Here he again jumped on to the
window-sill and started to bark loudly, and then to whimper as if he wanted
to assure his master that the children had left the room through the window.
Schmidt got angry.
"You're nothing but a dunce ! Just a puppy ! You actually think that
the children jumped out into the yard through a window on the fifth floor?
Or perhaps you think they flew out of the window like flies or dragonflies?"
"What !" The Professor started. "They flew? What dragonfly?"
The photographer smiled.
"Well, that is what Jack thinks!"
The Professor seized his head in his hands.
"What an awful thing!" His voice was hoarse.
The photographer gazed at him in amazement and asked:
"What is the matter with you? Here, have a drink of water! You are not
well."
He stepped towards the table on which stood a glass jug full of water;
but here the Professor positively screamed as if he had trodden on red-hot
iron with bare feet.
"Stop! stop! stop!" he yelled.
The photographer, now frightened, froze in his tracks.
The Professor shot out his hand and grabbed a glass containing what
appeared to be water, hastily raised it to the level of his eyes and looked
through it towards the light. Then he hastily produced a huge magnifying
glass with a horn handle from his pocket and shouted to Schmidt: