"H. Beam Piper - Time and Time Again" - читать интересную книгу автора (Piper H Beam)

"Did you load the chamber?" Blake Hartley demanded.

"Sure. It's on safe, now."

"Let me see." His father took the pistol, being careful to keep his finger out of the trigger guard, and
looked at it. "Yes, that's all right." He repeated the instructions Allan had given, stressing the importance
of putting the safety on after using. "Understand how it works, now?" he asked.

"Yes, I understand how it works. Thank you, Mr. Hartley. Thank you, too, young man."

Gutchall put the Luger in his hip pocket, made sure it wouldn't fall out, and took his departure.

"You shouldn't have loaded it," Hartley père reproved, when he was gone.

Allan sighed. This was it; the masquerade was over.

"I had to, to keep you from fooling with it," he said. "I didn't want you finding out that I'd taken out the
firing pin."

"You what?"

"Gutchall didn't want that gun to shoot a dog. He has no dog. He meant to shoot his wife with it. He's a
religious maniac; sees visions, hears voices, receives revelations, talks with the Holy Ghost. The Holy
Ghost probably put him up to this caper. I'll submit that any man who holds long conversations with the
Deity isn't to be trusted with a gun, and neither is any man who lies about why he wants one. And while I
was at it, I called the police, on the upstairs phone. I had to use your name; I deepened my voice and
talked through a handkerchief."

"You—" Blake Hartley jumped as though bee-stung. "Why did you have to do that?"

"You know why. I couldn't have told them, 'This is little Allan Hartley, just thirteen years old; please, Mr.
Policeman, go and arrest Frank Gutchall before he goes root-toot-toot at his wife with my pappa's
Luger.' That would have gone over big, now, wouldn't it?"

"And suppose he really wants to shoot a dog; what sort of a mess will I be in?"

"No mess at all. If I'm wrong—which I'm not—I'll take the thump for it, myself. It'll pass for a dumb kid
trick, and nothing'll be done. But if I'm right, you'll have to front for me. They'll keep your name out of it,
but they'd give me a lot of cheap boy-hero publicity, which I don't want." He picked up his pencil again.
"We should have the complete returns in about twenty minutes."




That was a ten-minute under-estimate, and it was another quarter-hour before the detective-sergeant
who returned the Luger had finished congratulating Blake Hartley and giving him the thanks of the
Department. After he had gone, the lawyer picked up the Luger, withdrew the clip, and ejected the
round in the chamber.