Сестра Керри

Chapter XLI. The Strike

           

           NeitherpaidtheslightestattentiontoHurstwood,whostoodfacingthecoldwind,whichwaschillinghimcompletely,andthinkingofhisorders.

           “Keepasteadygait,”theforemanhadsaid.“Don’tstopforanyonewhodoesn’tlooklikearealpassenger.Whateveryoudo,don’tstopforacrowd.”

           Thetwoofficerskeptsilentforafewmoments.

           “Thelastmanmusthavegonethroughallright,”saidtheofficerontheleft.“Idon’tseehiscaranywhere.”

           “Who’sonthere?”askedthesecondofficer,referring,ofcourse,toitscomplementofpolicemen.

           “SchaefferandRyan.”

           Therewasanothersilence,inwhichthecarransmoothlyalong.Therewerenotsomanyhousesalongthispartoftheway.Hurstwooddidnotseemanypeopleeither.Thesituationwasnotwhollydisagreeabletohim.Ifhewerenotsocold,hethoughthewoulddowellenough.

           Hewasbroughtoutofthisfeelingbythesuddenappearanceofacurveahead,whichhehadnotexpected.Heshutoffthecurrentanddidanenergeticturnatthebrake,butnotintimetoavoidanunnaturallyquickturn.Itshookhimupandmadehimfeellikemakingsomeapologeticremarks,butherefrained.

           “Youwanttolookoutforthemthings,”saidtheofficerontheleft,condescendingly.

           “That’sright,”agreedHurstwood,shamefacedly.

           “There’slotsofthemonthisline,”saidtheofficerontheright.Aroundthecorneramorepopulatedwayappeared.Oneortwopedestrianswereinviewahead.AboycomingoutofagatewithatinmilkbucketgaveHurstwoodhisfirstobjectionablegreeting.

           “Scab!”heyelled.

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