"Robert A. Heinlein - Assignment in eternity (Collected Storie" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert A)

“Best mechanos in town, chief. There’s a discount if you’re just down from
the moon.”
Captain Gilead, when in town as Captain Gilead, always stayed at the old
Savoy. But the notion of going to the New Age appealed to him; in that in-
credibly huge, busy, and ultramodern hostelry he might remain unnoticed
until he had had time to do what had to be done.
He disliked mightily the idea of letting go his bag. Nevertheless it would be
out of character not to let the runner carry the bag; it would call attention to
himself-and the bag. He decided that this unhealthy runt could not outrun
him even if he himself were on crutches; it would suffice to keep an eye on
the bag.
“Lead on, comrade,” he answered heartily, surrendering the bag. There had
been no hesitation at all; he had let go the bag even as the hotel runner
reached for it.
“Okay, chief.” The runner was first man into an empty lift; he went to the
back of the car and set the bag down beside him. Gilead placed himself so
that his foot rested firmly against his bag and faced for- ward as other
travelers crowded in. The car started.
The lift was jammed; Gilead was subjected to body pressures on every
side-but he noticed an additional, unusual, and uncalled-for pressure
behind him.
His right hand moved suddenly and clamped down on a skinny wrist and a
hand clutching something. Gilead made no further movement, nor did the
owner of the hand attempt to draw away or make any objection. They
remained so until the car reached the surface. When the passengers had
spilled out he reached behind him with his left hand, recovered his bag and
dragged the wrist and its owner out of the car.

2
It was, of course, the runner; the object in his fist was Gilead’s wallet. “You
durn near lost that. chief,” the runner announced with no show of
embarrassment. “It was falling out of your pocket.”
Gilead liberated the wallet and stuffed it into an inner pocket. “Fell right
through the zipper,” he answered cheerfully. “Well, let’s find a cop.’
The runt tried to pull away, “You got nothing on me!”
Gilead considered the defense. In truth, he had nothing. His wallet was
already out of sight. As to witnesses, the other lift passengers were already
gone-nor had they seen anything. The lift itself was automatic. He was
simply a man in the odd position of detaining another citizen by the wrist.
And Gilead himself did not want to talk to the police.
He let go that wrist. “On your way, comrade. We’ll call it quits.”
The runner did not move. “How about my tip?”
Gilead was beginning to like this rascal. Locating a loose half credit in his
change pocket he flipped it at the runner, who grabbed it out of the air but
still didn’t leave. “I’ll take your bag now. Gimme.”
“No, thanks, chum. I can find your delightful inn without further help. One
side, please.”
“Oh, yeah? How about my commission? I gotta carry your bag, else how
they gonna know I brung you in? Gimme.”
Gilead was delighted with the creature’s unabashed insistence. He found a