"Г.К.Честертон. The Club of Queer Trades " - читать интересную книгу автора

Major Brown turned brick red. "I beg your pardon," he said, "I
think not."

Rupert raised his eyebrows and looked at him for a moment, but said
nothing. When next he spoke he asked:

"Was there anything in the pockets of the coat?"

"There was sevenpence halfpenny in coppers and a threepenny-bit,"
said the Major carefully; "there was a cigarette-holder, a piece of
string, and this letter," and he laid it on the table. It ran as
follows:

Dear Mr Plover,

I am annoyed to hear that some delay has occurred in the
arrangements re Major Brown. Please see that he is attacked as
per arrangement tomorrow The coal-cellar, of course.

Yours faithfully, P. G. Northover.

Rupert Grant was leaning forward listening with hawk-like eyes. He
cut in:

"Is it dated from anywhere?"

"No--oh, yes!" replied Brown, glancing upon the paper; "14 Tanner's
Court, North--"

Rupert sprang up and struck his hands together.

"Then why are we hanging here? Let's get along. Basil, lend me your
revolver."

Basil was staring into the embers like a man in a trance; and it
was some time before he answered:

"I don't think you'll need it."

"Perhaps not," said Rupert, getting into his fur coat. "One never
knows. But going down a dark court to see criminals--"

"Do you think they are criminals?" asked his brother.

Rupert laughed stoutly. "Giving orders to a subordinate to strangle
a harmless stranger in a coal-cellar may strike you as a very
blameless experiment, but--"

"Do you think they wanted to strangle the Major?" asked Basil, in
the same distant and monotonous voice.