Спрут: Каліфорнійська історія
Chapter VI
“AchGott!”hecried,“datpoonsch,sayItinkdotpoonschmeksomedemngootvertilizer,hey?”
Fertiliser!Theothersroaredwithlaughter.
“Goodeye,Bismarck,”commentedAnnixter.Thenamehadagreatsuccess.Thereafterthroughouttheeveningthepunchwasinvariablyspokenofasthe“Fertiliser.”Osterman,havingspiltthebottomofaglassfulonthefloor,pretendedthathesawshootsofgraincominguponthespot.SuddenlyheturneduponoldBroderson.“I’mbald,ain’tI?WanttoknowhowIlostmyhair?Promiseyouwon’taskasingleotherquestionandI’lltellyou.Promiseyourwordofhonour.”
“Eh?What—wh—I—Idon’tunderstand.Yourhair?Yes,I’llpromise.Howdidyouloseit?”
“Itwasbitoff.”
Theothergazedathimstupefied;hisjawdropped.Thecompanyshouted,andoldBroderson,believinghehadsomehowaccomplishedawitticism,chuckledinhisbeard,wagginghishead.Butsuddenlyhefellgrave,struckwithanidea.Hedemanded:
“Yes—Iknow—but—butwhatbititoff?”
“Ah,”vociferatedOsterman,“that’sJUSTwhatyoupromisednottoask.”
Thecompanydoubledupwithhilarity.Caraherleanedagainstthedoor,holdinghissides,butHooven,allabroad,unabletofollow,gazedfromfacetofacewithavacantgrin,thinkingitwasstillaquestionofhisfamousphrase.
“Vertilizer,hey?Dotssomefinejoke,hey?Youbedt.”
Whatwiththenoiseoftheirtalkandlaughter,itwassometimebeforeDyke,firstofall,heardapersistentknockingonthebolteddoor.HecalledAnnixter’sattentiontothesound.
