"Valentin Katayev. The Cottage in the Steppe (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

Suddenly Petya saw Gavrik coming towards him, swinging a spray of white
acacia. Petya could hardly believe his eyes. Had he come to see them off? It
was not at all like Gavrik to do a thing like that.
"What made you come here?" Petya asked. "I've come to see you off,"
Gavrik answered and the nonchalant gesture as he handed Petya the acacia was
magnificent.
"Are you crazy?" Petya felt very embarrassed. "No," Gavrik said. "What
is it then?"
"I'm your pupil, you're my teacher. And Terenty says that we should
respect our teachers. Isn't that right?" There was a quizzical twinkle in
Gavrik's smiling eyes. "Stop fooling."
"I'm not fooling," Gavrik said. And taking Petya by the arm, he said in
a very serious voice, "I want a word with you. Let's take a walk."
They strolled down the pier, through the flocks of lazy pigeons that
kept pecking away at kernels of maize. At the end of the pier they sat down
on a huge anchor. Gavrik looked around, and when he had made sure that there
was no one within earshot, he said, as if continuing an interrupted
conversation:
"Look here. I'll give you a letter, which you must stow away safely.
When you reach a foreign country, stamp it and drop it in a letter-box. But
not in Turkey, because they belong to the same gang. Post it in Italy or
Switzerland, or, best of all, France. Will you do this for us?"
Petya stared at Gavrik in amazement, wondering whether he was joking or
serious. However, he had such a serious look about him that there could be
no doubt.
"Of course I'll do it," Petya said and shrugged.
"Where will you get the money for the stamp?" Gavrik queried.
"Don't worry. We'll be writing to Auntie all the time. That'll be easy
enough."
"I can give you the twenty kopeks for the stamp, maybe you can exchange
it there for their kind of money."
Petya smiled.
"Listen, none of that," Gavrik said severely. "And remember, it's very
important... er ... well." He wanted to say "Party business," but did not.
He tried to think of an appropriate word, but could not, and could only wag
an ink-stained finger significantly in front of Petya's nose.
"I understand," Petya nodded solemnly.
"It's a personal request from Terenty," Gavrik said after a moment's
silence, as if to explain the importance of the matter. "Do you get me?"
"Yes," Petya answered.
Gavrik looked around once more and took the letter out of his pocket.
It was wrapped in newspaper to keep it from getting soiled.
"Where can I hide it?"
"Right here."
Gavrik took off Petya's sailor's cap and pushed the letter carefully