"Anatoly Rybakov. The dirk (Кортик, англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

the glass. At last here was something he could do! He could train his
will-power a little by looking at the fly and forcing himself not to catch
it.
Misha watched it. What a noise its buzzing made! If he let it go on it
might awaken Grandfather. The buzzing had to be stopped, Misha decided, but
to do so he had to catch the fly. No, he would not kill it; but would let it
out into the street.
There was nothing easier than catching a fly. In a trice it was in his
fist. He opened his hand carefully and drew the fly out by one of its wings.
It beat its free wing frantically in an effort to escape, but Misha held it
firmly.
He opened the window and stopped short. It would be a pity to let it
go, he thought. Just wasting the time he'd spent catching it. And when you
came to think of it, flies were disease-carriers. While hesitating whether
to let it out or to kill it, he suddenly felt someone watching him. He
looked up and saw Genka standing under the window.
"Hello, Misha!" he smirked.
"Hello," Misha replied guardedly.
"Caught many flies to-day?"
"As many as I need."
"Why aren't you coming out?"
"Don't want to."
"You're lying: you're not allowed to, that's why."
"Fat lot you know! I'll come out if I want to."
"Well, start wanting!"
"But I don't."
"You don't!" Genka laughed. "Better say you can't."
"I can't?"
"You can't!"
"If that's what you think!'" Misha climbed on the sill and jumped out
into the street next to Genka.
"What d'you say to this?"
But Grandmother put her head out of the window before Genka could
reply.
"Misha, come home at once!" she called. "Run!" Misha whispered.
They sped down the street, darted into a side alley, climbed over the
fence into Genka's garden, and hid in a tree hut.


Chapter 5

THE TREE HUT



Genka's hut was made of boards, branches, and leaves and it stood about
ten feet from the ground balanced between three trees that hid it with their
foliage. From it there was a view of the entire town, the railway station,
the River Desna, and the road leading to the village of Nosovka. It was cool
in the hut, it smelt of pine, and the leaves quivered slightly in the dying