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The Case of the Lucky Legs :: Гарднер Эрл Стенли
Страница: 10 из 154"
Perry Mason's grin was sheepish.
"I keep forgetting," he said, "in between times."
He pulled out a wallet from his inside pocket, took out a twentydollar bill.
"Put that in the kid's savings account, will you, Mamie?"
There were swift tears in her eyes.
"Listen," she said, "why do you always do that? I don't like it. I can't refuse for the kid, but I'm getting by here all right, making a living, and —"
"It's just like I told you the last time, Mamie," he said.
"Superstition?" she asked, staring at him with eyes that were hard and bright as those of a wild duck.
He nodded his head.
"I guess all gamblers get that way, Mamie, and I'm one of the biggest gamblers in the world. I gamble with human emotions instead of with cards. Every time I've made a little deposit for the kid's account, it's brought me luck."
Slowly her hand came out and the fingers closed over the bill. Tears once more softened her eyes.
"You're commencing to get me half sold that it is superstition," she said, "and that shows how good you are."
Perry Mason started to say something, but turned as he heard some one call his name.
Paul Drake, the detective, and J.R. Bradbury were just emerging from the lobby of the office building.
Paul Drake was a tall man with drooping shoulders. He carried his head thrust slightly forward. His eyes were glassy and prominent. His face was twisted into an expression of droll humor. The eyes held no expression whatever.
"Hello, Perry," he said, "were you just going out?"
Mason looked at his wristwatch.
"I was just coming in," he said. "I've been down for a chat with the D.A.'s office. I see you and Bradbury have had your heads together. What did you accomplish—anything?"
Bradbury's quick gray eyes glinted to Perry Mason's face with swift affirmation.
"I'll say," he said. "This man knows more about the case now than I ever did." His eyes shifted over to the smiling blonde back of the cigar counter.
"Hello, sister," he said, "I'm buying some cigars. Pull out that box over there in the righthand corner."
He tapped on the glass of the showcase with his finger.
Mamie brought out the box of cigars.
"Ever try these?" asked Bradbury. "They're a fine twentyfivecent cigar."
Mason nodded, picked out a cigar.
"Take a couple," said Bradbury.
Mason took two cigars.
Bradbury slid the box toward Paul Drake.
"Take a couple," he said.
Perry Mason's grin was sheepish.
"I keep forgetting," he said, "in between times."
He pulled out a wallet from his inside pocket, took out a twentydollar bill.
"Put that in the kid's savings account, will you, Mamie?"
There were swift tears in her eyes.
"Listen," she said, "why do you always do that? I don't like it. I can't refuse for the kid, but I'm getting by here all right, making a living, and —"
"It's just like I told you the last time, Mamie," he said.
"Superstition?" she asked, staring at him with eyes that were hard and bright as those of a wild duck.
He nodded his head.
"I guess all gamblers get that way, Mamie, and I'm one of the biggest gamblers in the world. I gamble with human emotions instead of with cards. Every time I've made a little deposit for the kid's account, it's brought me luck."
Slowly her hand came out and the fingers closed over the bill. Tears once more softened her eyes.
"You're commencing to get me half sold that it is superstition," she said, "and that shows how good you are."
Perry Mason started to say something, but turned as he heard some one call his name.
Paul Drake, the detective, and J.R. Bradbury were just emerging from the lobby of the office building.
Paul Drake was a tall man with drooping shoulders. He carried his head thrust slightly forward. His eyes were glassy and prominent. His face was twisted into an expression of droll humor. The eyes held no expression whatever.
"Hello, Perry," he said, "were you just going out?"
Mason looked at his wristwatch.
"I was just coming in," he said. "I've been down for a chat with the D.A.'s office. I see you and Bradbury have had your heads together. What did you accomplish—anything?"
Bradbury's quick gray eyes glinted to Perry Mason's face with swift affirmation.
"I'll say," he said. "This man knows more about the case now than I ever did." His eyes shifted over to the smiling blonde back of the cigar counter.
"Hello, sister," he said, "I'm buying some cigars. Pull out that box over there in the righthand corner."
He tapped on the glass of the showcase with his finger.
Mamie brought out the box of cigars.
"Ever try these?" asked Bradbury. "They're a fine twentyfivecent cigar."
Mason nodded, picked out a cigar.
"Take a couple," said Bradbury.
Mason took two cigars.
Bradbury slid the box toward Paul Drake.
"Take a couple," he said.