Heinlein, Robert A Six Stories

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The little bird flew up and then flew away; the little bird flew up and then flew away; the little bird flew
up, and then flew away
Mr. Hoag! Randall stood up and took him by the arm. Mr. Hoag control yourself! That s no way
to behave.
Hoag stopped, looking bewildered. He looked from one face to the other and an expression of shame
came over him. I . . . I m sorry, Mrs. Randall, he said. I quite forgot myself. I m not myself today. All
this worry
It s all right, Mr. Hoag, she said stiffly. But her earlier revulsion had returned.
It s not entirely all right, Randall amended. I think the time has come to get a number of things cleared
up. There has been entirely too much going on that I don t understand and I think it is up to you, Mr.
Hoag, to give me a few plain answers.
The little man seemed honestly at a loss. I surely will, Mr. Randall, if there is anything I can answer. Do
you feel that I have not been frank with you?
I certainly do. First when were you in a hospital for the criminally insane?
Why, I never was. At least, I don tthink I ever was. I don t remember being in one.
Then why all this hysterical balderdash you have been spouting the past five minutes? Were you just
making it up?
Oh, no! That . . . that was . . . that referred to St. George Rest Home. It had nothing to do with a . . .
with such a hospital.
St. George Rest Home, eh? We ll come back to that. Mr. Hoag, tell me what happened yesterday.
Yesterday? During the day? But Mr. Randall, youknow I can t tell you what happened during the day.
Ithink you can. There has been some damnable skulduggery going on and you re the center of it. When
you stopped me in front of the Acme Building what did you say to me?
The Acme Building? I know nothing of the Acme Building. Was I there?
You re damned right you were there and you pulled some sort of a shenanigan on me, drugged me or
doped me, or something.Why?
Hoag looked from Randall s implacable face to that of his wife. But her face was impassive; she was
having none of it. He turned hopelessly back to Randall. Mr. Randall, believe me I don t know what
you are talking about. I may have been at the Acme Building. If I were and if I did anything to you, I
know nothing of it.
His words were so grave, so solemnly sincere in their sound that Randall was unsettled in his own
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conviction. And yet damn it,somebody had led him up an alley. He shifted his approach. Mr. Hoag, if
you have been as sincere with me as you claim to be, you won t mind what I m going to do next. He
drew from the inner pocket of his coat a silver cigarette case, opened it, and polished the mirrorlike inner
surface of the cover with his handkerchief. Now, Mr. Hoag, if you please.
What do you want?
I want your fingerprints.
Hoag looked startled, swallowed a couple of times, and said in a low voice, Why should you want my
fingerprints?
Why not? If you haven t done anything, it can t do any harm, can it?
You re going to turn me over to the police!
I haven t any reason to. I haven t anything on you. Let s have your prints.
No!
Randall got up, stepped toward Hoag and stood over him. How would you like both your arms
broken? he said savagely.
Hoag looked at him and cringed, but he did not offer his hands for prints. He huddled himself together,
face averted and his hands drawn in tight to his chest.
Randall felt a touch on his arm. That s enough, Teddy. Let s get out of here.
Hoag looked up. Yes, he said huskily. Get out. Don t come back.
Come on, Teddy.
I will in a moment. I m not quite through. Mr. Hoag!
Hoag met his eye as if it were a major effort.
Mr. Hoag, you ve mentioned St. George Rest Home twice as being your oldalma mater. I just wanted
you to know thatI know that there is no such place!
Again Hoag looked genuinely startled. But there is, he insisted. Wasn t I there for At least they told [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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