"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 149 - King Joe Cay" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

He left them.

He walked along the aisle toward the pullmans. He tried not to let it be apparent that he was holding the
girl's purse under his coat.

He went into the men's washroom in the next car. No one else was there. He opened the girl's purse
quickly, looked in it, took out everything that looked to him like what they might be seeking. This stuff he
held in his fist, looking around for a place to hide it.

The waste-paper basket was over half full of crushed paper towels. He shoved the stuff he had taken out
of the purse down in the towels, left it there.

He went back and stood between the cars, waiting, standing on widespread feet to counteract the
swaying. There was roaring under him and cold wind blew in through the joints between the cars. He
noticed that the glass in the door was streaked with dirty water, and saw with surprise that now it was
raining outside.

Brigham Pope joined him, asked, “You get it?”

He lifted his coat slightly, so that Brigham Pope could see the purse.

“Okay,” Brigham Pope said. “Don't start looking at it. Don't let anybody see you got it.”

“Where's the baby?”

“The girl is holding him.”

“How come?”

“I told her I hadda get a drink.”

“Oh.”

“I'm going back and ask her to hold him a while longer,” Brigham Pope said. “That way, we can come
back later and get the baby, and switch the purses back again, so she'll have hers back.”

“Whose idea was that?”

“Tom Ittle's.”

“Oh.”

“You wait. I'll tell her, be back. We'll go see Tom Ittle.” Brigham Pope went away.

The train, traveling across the Illinois farmland, began attacking a slight grade. There were three baggage
and mail cars nearest the locomotive, then four pullmans of which this was the last one, then the day
coaches.

On the prairie flatland there had been through the whole train a loose, wild sensation of speed, but this