pgw.psmith,journalist-第31部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！

　〃You　figure　you're　clever；　I　guess。〃
　〃There　are　few　brighter　brains　in　this　city；　rade　Parker。　But　why　this　sudden　tribute？
　〃You　reckon　you've　thought　it　all　out；　eh？〃
　〃There　may　be　a　flaw　in　my　reasoning；　but　I　confess　I　do　not　at　the　moment　see　where　it　lies。　Have　you　detected　one？〃
　〃I　guess　so。〃
　〃Ah！　And　what　is　it？〃
　〃You　seem　to　think　New　York's　the　only　place　on　the　map。〃
　〃Meaning　what；　rade　Parker？〃
　〃It　might　be　a　fool　trick　to　shoot　you　in　the　city　as　you　say；　but；　you　see；　we　aren't　due　to　stay　in　the　city。　This　cab　is　moving　on。〃
　〃Like　John　Brown's　soul；〃　said　Psmith；　nodding。　〃I　see。　Then　you　propose　to　make　quite　a　little　tour　in　this　cab？〃
　〃You've　got　it。〃
　〃And　when　we　are　out　in　the　open　country；　where　there　are　no　witnesses；　things　may　begin　to　move。〃
　〃That's　it。〃
　〃Then；〃　said　Psmith　heartily；　〃till　that　moment　arrives　what　we　must　do　is　to　entertain　each　other　with　conversation。　You　can　take　no　step　of　any　sort　for　a　full　half…hour；　possibly　more；　so　let　us　give　ourselves　up　to　the　merriment　of　the　passing　instant。　Are　you　good　at　riddles；　rade　Parker？　How　much　wood　would　a　wood…chuck　chuck；　assuming　for　purposes　of　argument　that　it　was　in　the　power　of　a　wood…chuck　to　chuck　wood？〃
　Mr。　Parker　did　not　attempt　to　solve　this　problem。　He　was　sitting　in　the　same　attitude　of　watchfulness；　the　revolver　resting　on　his　knee。　He　seemed　mistrustful　of　Psmith's　right　hand；　which　was　hanging　limply　at　his　side。　It　was　from　this　quarter　that　he　seemed　to　expect　attack。　The　cab　was　bowling　easily　up　the　broad　street；　past　rows　on　rows　of　high　houses；　all　looking　exactly　the　same。　Occasionally；　to　the　right；　through　a　break　in　the　line　of　buildings；　a　glimpse　of　the　river　could　be　seen。
　Psmith　resumed　the　conversation。
　〃You　are　not　interested　in　wood…chucks；　rade　Parker？　Well；　well；　many　people　are　not。　A　passion　for　the　flora　and　fauna　of　our　forests　is　innate　rather　than　acquired。　Let　us　talk　of　something　else。　Tell　me　about　your　home…life；　rade　Parker。　Are　you　married？　Are　there　any　little　Parkers　running　about　the　house？　When　you　return　from　this　very　pleasant　excursion　will　baby　voices　crow　gleefully；　'Fahzer's　e　home'？〃
　Mr。　Parker　said　nothing。
　〃I　see；〃　said　Psmith　with　ready　sympathy。　〃I　understand。　Say　no　more。　You　are　unmarried。　She　wouldn't　have　you。　Alas；　rade　Parker！　However；　thus　it　is！　We　look　around　us；　and　what　do　we　see？　A　solid　phalanx　of　the　girls　we　have　loved　and　lost。　Tell　me　about　her；　rade　Parker。　Was　it　your　face　or　your　manners　at　which　she　drew　the　line？〃
　Mr。　Parker　leaned　forward　with　a　scowl。　Psmith　did　not　move；　but　　his　right　hand；　as　it　hung；　closed。　Another　moment　and　Mr。　Parker's　chin　would　be　in　just　the　right　position　for　a　swift　upper…cut。　。　。
　This　fact　appeared　suddenly　to　dawn　on　Mr。　Parker　himself。　He　drew　back　quickly；　and　half　raised　the　revolver。　Psmith's　hand　resumed　its　normal　attitude。
　〃Leaving　more　painful　topics；〃　said　Psmith；　〃let　us　turn　to　another　point。　That　note　which　the　grubby　stripling　brought　to　me　at　the　office　purported　to　e　from　rade　Windsor；　and　stated　that　he　had　escaped　from　Blackwell's　Island；　and　was　awaiting　my　arrival　at　some　address　in　the　Bowery。　Would　you　mind　telling　me；　purely　to　satisfy　my　curiosity；　if　that　note　was　genuine？　I　have　never　made　a　close　study　of　rade　Windsor's　handwriting；　and　in　an　unguarded　moment　I　may　have　assumed　too　much。〃
　Mr。　Parker　permitted　himself　a　smile。
　〃I　guess　you　aren't　so　clever　after　all；〃　he　said。　〃The　note　was　a　fake　all　right。〃
　〃And　you　had　this　cab　waiting　for　me　on　the　chance？〃
　Mr。　Parker　nodded。
　〃Sherlock　Holmes　was　right；〃　said　Psmith　regretfully。　〃You　may　remember　that　he　advised　Doctor　Watson　never　to　take　the　first　cab；　or　the　second。　He　should　have　gone　further；　and　urged　him　not　to　take　cabs　at　all。　Walking　is　far　healthier。〃
　〃You'll　find　it　so；〃　said　Mr。　Parker。
　Psmith　eyed　him　curiously。
　〃What　are　you　going　to　do　with　me；　rade　Parker？〃　he　asked。
　Mr。　Parker　did　not　reply。　Psmith's　eye　turned　again　to　the　window。　They　had　covered　much　ground　since　last　he　had　looked　at　the　view。　They　were　off　Manhattan　Island　now；　and　the　houses　were　beginning　to　thin　out。　Soon；　travelling　at　their　present　rate；　they　must　e　into　the　open　country。　Psmith　relapsed　into　silence。　It　was　necessary　for　him　to　think。　He　had　been　talking　in　the　hope　of　getting　the　other　off　his　guard；　but　Mr。　Parker　was　evidently　too　keenly　on　the　look…out。　The　hand　that　held　the　revolver　never　wavered。　The　muzzle；　pointing　in　an　upward　direction；　was　aimed　at　Psmith's　waist。　There　was　no　doubt　that　a　move　on　his　part　would　be　fatal。　If　the　pistol　went　off；　it　must　hit　him。　If　it　had　been　pointed　at　his　head　in　the　orthodox　way　he　might　have　risked　a　sudden　blow　to　knock　it　aside；　but　in　the　present　circumstances　that　would　be　useless。　There　was　nothing　to　do　but　wait。
　The　cab　moved　swiftly　on。　Now　they　had　reached　the　open　country。　An　occasional　wooden　shack　was　passed；　but　that　was　all。　At　any　moment　the　climax　of　the　drama　might　be　reached。　Psmith's　muscles　stiffened　for　a　spring。　There　was　little　chance　of　its　being　effective；　but　at　least　it　would　be　better　to　put　up　some　kind　of　a　fight。　And　he　had　a　faint　hope　that　the　suddenness　of　his　movement　might　upset　the　other's　aim。　He　was　bound　to　be　hit　somewhere。　That　was　certain。　But　quickness　might　save　him　to　some　extent。
　He　braced　his　leg　against　the　back　of　the　cab。　In　another　moment　he　would　have　sprung；　but　just　then　the　smooth　speed　of　the　cab　changed　to　a　series　of　jarring　bumps；　each　more　emphatic　than　the　last。　It　slowed　down；　then　came　to　a　halt。　One　of　the　tyres　had　burst。
　There　was　a　thud；　as　the　chauffeur　jumped　down。　They　heard　him　fumbling　in　the　tool…box。　Presently　the　body　of　the　machine　was　raised　slightly　as　he　got　to　work　with　the　jack。
　It　was　about　a　minute　later　that　somebody　in　the　road　outside　spoke。
　〃Had　a　breakdown？〃　inquired　the　voice。　Psmith　recognised　it。　It　was　the　voice　of　Kid　Brady。
　
　CHAPTER　XXVII
　PSMITH　CONCLUDES　HIS　RIDE
　
　THE　Kid；　as　he　had　stated　to　Psmith　at　their　last　interview　that　he　intended　to　do；　had　begun　his　training　for　his　match　with　Eddie　Wood；　at　White　Plains；　a　village　distant　but　a　few　miles　from　New　York。　It　was　his　practice　to　open　a　course　of　training　with　a　little　gentle　road…work；　and　it　was　while　jogging　along　the　highway　a　couple　of　miles　from　his　training…camp；　in　pany　with　the　two　thick…necked　gentlemen　who　acted　as　his　sparring…partners；　that　he　had　e　upon　the　broken…down　taxi…cab。
　If　this　had　happened　after　his　training　had　begun　in　real　earnest；　he　would　have　averted　his　eyes　from　the　spectacle；　however　alluring；　and　continued　on　his　way　without　a　pause。　But　now；　as　he　had　not　yet　settled　down　to　genuine　hard　work；　he　felt　justified　in　turning　aside　and　looking　into　the　matter。　The　fact　that　the　chauffeur；　who　seemed　to　be　a　taciturn　man；　lacking　the　conversational　graces；　manifestly　objected　to　an　audience；　deterred　him　not　at　all。　One　cannot　have　everything　in　this　world；　and　the　Kid　and　his　attendant　thick…necks　were　content　to　watch　the　process　of　mending　the　tyre；　without　demanding　the　additional　joy　of　sparkling　small…talk　from　the　man　in　charge　of　the　operations。
　〃Guy's　had　a　breakdown；　sure；〃　said　the　first　of　the　thick…necks。
　〃Surest　thing　you　know；〃　agreed　his　colleague。
　〃Seems　to　me　the　tyre's　punctured；〃　said　the　Kid。
　All　three　concentrated　their　gaze　on　the　machine
　〃Kid's　right；〃　said　thick…neck　number　one。　〃Guy's　been　an'　bust　a　tyre。〃
　〃Surest　thing　you　know；〃　said　thick…neck　number　two。
　They　observed　the　perspiring　chauffeur　in　silence　for　a　while。
　〃Wonder　how　he　did　that；　now？〃　speculated　the　Kid。
　〃Guy　ran　over　a　nail；　I　guess；〃　said　thick…neck　number　one。
　〃Surest　thing　you　know；〃　said　the　other；　who；　while　perhaps　somewhat　lacking　in　the　matter　of　original　thought；　was　a　most　useful　fellow　to　have　by　one。　A　sort　of　Boswell。　　〃Did　you　run　over　a　nail？〃　the　Kid　inquired　of　the　chauffeur。
　The　chauffeur　ignored　the　question。
　〃This　is　his　busy　day；〃　said　the　first　thick…neck　with　satire。　〃Guy's　too　full　of　work　to　talk　to　us。〃
　〃Deaf；　shouldn't　wonder；〃　surmised　the　Kid。
　〃Say；　wonder　what　he's　doin'　with　a　taxi　so　far　out　of　the　city。〃
　〃Some　guy　tells　him　to　drive　him　out　here；　I　guess。　Say；　it'll　cost　him　something；　too。　He'll　have　to　strip　off　a　few　from　his　roll　to　pay　for　this。〃
　Psmith；　in　the　interior　of　the　cab；　glanced　at　Mr。　Parker。
　〃You　heard；　rade　Parker？　He　is　right；　I　fancy。　The　bill〃
　Mr。　Parker　dug　viciously　at　him　with　the　revolver。
　〃Keep　quiet；〃　he　whispered；　〃or　you'll　get　hurt。〃
　Psmith　suspended　his　remarks。
　Outside；　the　conversation　had　begun　again。
　〃Pretty　rich　guy　inside；〃　said　the　Kid；　following　up　his　panion's　train　of　thought。　〃I'm　goin'　to　rubber　in　at　the　window。〃
　Psmith；　meeting　Mr。　Parker's　eye；　smiled　pleasantly。　There　was　no　answering　smile　on　the　other's　face。
　There　came　the　sound　of　the　Kid's　feet　grating　on　the　road　as　he　turned；　and　as　he　heard　it　Mr。　Parker；　that　eminent　tactician；　for　the　first　time　lost　his　head。　With　a　vague　idea　of　screening　Psmith　from　the　eyes　of　the　man　in　the　road　he　half　rose。　For　an　insta