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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] momentary panic, collected himself. "Come come, Beulah. This isn't like you. Here's a poor fellow-creature, starved, tired, beaten by a crowd of boys, and you have no pity for him. I'm really disappointed in you, Beulah." "Disappointed!" sniffed the housekeeper, though touched. "Because of that disgraceful thing. He should be in an institu- tion where they keep such monsters!" "All right, we'll talk about it later. Go ahead, boy, take your bath. And, Beulah, see if you can't rustle up some old clothes of mine." With a last look of disapproval, Beulah flounced out of the room. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html "Don't mind her, boy," Scanlon said when she left "She was my nurse once and she still has a sort of proprietary interest in me. She won't harm you. Go take your bath." The Tweenie was a different person altogether when he finally seated himself at the dining-room table. Now that the layer of grime was removed, there was something quite hand- some about his thin face, and his high, clear forehead gave him a markedly intellectual look. His hair still stood erect, a foot tall, in spite of the moistening it had received. In the light its brilliant whiteness took an imposing dignity, and to Scanlon it seemed to lose all ugliness. "Do you like cold chicken?" asked Scanlon. "Oh, yes!" enthusiastically. "Then pitch in. And when you finish that, you can have more. Take anything on the table." The Tweenie's eyes glistened as he set his jaws to work; and, between the two of them, the table was bare in a few minutes. "Well, now," exclaimed Scanlon when the repast had reached its end, "I think you might answer some questions now. What's your name?" 'They called me Max." "Ah! And your last name?" The Tweenie shrugged his shoulders. "They never called HALF-BREED me anything but Max when they spoke to me at all. I don't suppose a half-breed needs a name." There was no mistaking the bitterness in his voice. "But what were you doing running wild through the country? Why aren't you where you live?" "I was in a home. Anything is better than being in a home even the world outside, which I had never seen. Especially after Tom died." "Who was Tom, Max?" Scanlon spoke softly. "He was the only other one like me. He was younger fifteen but he died." He looked up from the table, fury in his eyes. "They killed him, Mr. Scanlon. He was such a young fellow, and so friendly. He couldn't stand being alone the way I could. He needed friends and fun, and all he had was me. No one else would speak to him, because he was a half-breed. And when he died I couldn't stand it anymore either. I left" "They meant to be kind. Max. You shouldn't have done that You're not like other people; they don't understand you. And they must have done something for you. You talk as though you've had some education." Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html "I could attend classes, all right," he assented gloomily. "But I had to sit in a comer away from all the others. They let me read all I wanted, though, and I'm thankful for that." "Well, there you are. Max. You weren't so badly off, were you?" Max lifted his head and stared at the other suspiciously. "You're not going to send me back, are you?" He half rose, as though ready for instant flight Scanlon coughed uneasily. "Of course, if you don't want to go back I won't make you. But it would be the best thing for you." "It wouldn'tl" Max cried vehemently. "Well, have it your own way. Anyway, I think you'd better go to sleep now. You need it. We'll talk in the morning." He led the still suspicious Tweenie up to the second floor, and pointed out a small bedroom. "That's yours for the night I'll be in the next room later on, and if you need anything just shout." He turned to leave, then thought of something. "But remember, you mustn't try to run away during the night" "Word of honor. I won't" Scanlon retired thoughtfully to the room he called his study. He lit a dim lamp and seated himself in a worn armchair. For ten minutes he sat without moving, and for the first time in 163 HALF-BREED six years thought about something besides his dream of atomic power. A quiet knock sounded, and at his grunted acknowledgment Beulah entered. She was frowning, her lips pursed. She planted herself firmly before him. "Oh, Jefferson! To think that you should do this! If your dear mother knew..." "Sit down, Beulah," Scanlon waved at another chair, "and don't worry about my mother. She wouldn't have minded." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |