Спрут: Каліфорнійська історія
Chapter IV
“Isay,”heaskedofthedrummernamedMax,“Isay,myfriend,whatplaceisthis?”
Theothersroaredwithderision.
“WewereHELDUP,sir,that’swhatwewere.Wewereheldupandyousleptthroughitall.Youmissedtheshowofyourlife.”
Thegentlemanfixedthegroupwithaprolongedgaze.Hesaidneveraword,butlittlebylittlehewasconvincedthatthedrummerstoldthetruth.Allatoncehegrewwrathful,hisfacepurpling.Hewithdrewhisheadangrily,buttoninghiscurtainstogetherinafury.Thecauseofhisragewasinexplicable,buttheycouldhearhimresettlinghimselfuponhispillowswithexasperatedmovementsofhisheadandshoulders.Inafewmomentsthedeepbassandshrilltrebleofhissnoringoncemoresoundedthroughthecar.
Atlastthetraingotunderwayagain,withuselesswarningblastsoftheengine’swhistle.Inafewmomentsitwastearingawaythroughthedawnatawonderfulspeed,rockingaroundcurves,roaringacrossculverts,makinguptime.
Andalltherestofthatstrangenightthepassengers,sittingupintheirunmadebeds,intheswayingcar,lightedbyastrangeminglingofpalliddawnandtremblingPintschlights,rushingatbreak-neckspeedthroughthemistyrain,wereoppressedbyavisionoffiguresofterror,farbehindtheminthenighttheyhadleft,masked,armed,gallopingtowardthemountainspistolinhand,thebootyboundtothesaddlebow,galloping,gallopingon,sendingathrilloffearthroughallthecountryside.
Theyoungdoctorreturned.
