"Ilf and Petrov. The Twelve Chairs" - читать интересную книгу автора

house, put the key in his back pocket and took the no. 7 express to
Stargorod.


CHAPTER FIVE


THE SMOOTH OPERATOR


At half past eleven a young man aged about twenty-eight entered
Stargorod from the direction of the village of Chmarovka, to the north-east.
A waif ran along behind him.
"Mister!" cried the boy gaily, "gimme ten kopeks!"
The young man took a warm apple out of his pocket "and handed it to the
waif, but the child still kept running behind. Then the young man stopped
and, looking ironically at the boy, said quietly:
"Perhaps you'd also like the key of the apartment where the money is?"
The presumptuous waif then realized the complete futility of his
pretensions and dropped behind.
The young man had not told the truth. He had no money, no apartment
where it might have been found, and no key with which to open it. He did not
even have a coat. The young man entered the town in a green suit tailored to
fit at the waist and an old woollen scarf wound several times around his
powerful neck. On his feet were patent-leather boots with orange-coloured
suede uppers. He had no socks on. The young man carried an astrolabe.
Approaching the market, he broke into a song: "O, Bayadere, tum-ti-ti,
tum-ti-ti."
In the market he found plenty going on. He squeezed into the line of
vendors selling wares spread out on the ground before them, stood the
astrolabe in front of him and began shouting:
"Who wants an astrolabe? Here's an astrolabe going cheap. Special
reduction for delegations and women's work divisions !"
At first the unexpected supply met with little demand; the delegations
of housewives were more interested in obtaining commodities in short supply
and were milling around the cloth and drapery stalls. A detective from the
Stargorod criminal investigation department passed the astrolabe-vendor
twice, but since the instrument in no way resembled the typewriter stolen
the day before from the Central Union of Dairy Co-operatives, the detective
stopped glaring at the young man and passed on.
By lunchtime the astrolabe had been sold to a repairman for three
roubles.
"It measures by itself," he said, handing over the astrolabe to its
purchaser, "provided you have something to measure."
Having rid himself of the calculating instrument, the happy young man
had lunch in the Tasty Corner snack bar, and then went to have a look at the
town. He passed along Soviet Street, came out into Red Army Street
(previously Greater Pushkin Street), crossed Co-operative Street and found
himself again on Soviet Street. But it was not the same Soviet Street from
which he had come. There were two Soviet Streets in the town. Greatly