Read Ebook: La culotte du brigadier by Pharaon Florian

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Ebook has 126 lines and 9585 words, and 3 pages

--Couchons-nous, dit philosophiquement le brigadier; ce chien est un fricoteur et demain tout le monde ? cheval, ? la recherche de son propri?taire, qui doit ?tre un fricoteur.

Sur cet ordre, tous les gendarmes all?rent se coucher.

Pendant ce temps-l?, Faro br?lait les quatre lieues qui s?parent Saint-Maximin de Trets.

Sixte Choua, attard? quittait M. Fr?d?ric fort inquiet de la longue et inexplicable absence de Faro, lorsque celui-ci arriva ? toute vitesse et d?posa une loque noire aux pieds de son ma?tre.

On transporta la guenille poussi?reuse dans la maison. Faro, tout haletant, vint se coucher aupr?s et, la secouant, fit tinter sur le parquet le contenu de la culotte, toute d?chiquet?e. M. Fr?d?ric la fouilla et en retira la pi?ce de cinq francs.

--Eh bien, qu'est-ce que tu en dis?

--J'en dis... j'en dis... fit en goguenardant Sixte Choua, que c'est un pur hasard de trouver dans une vieille culotte cinq francs plac?s sous une pierre au bord du chemin; voil? un pur hasard. Eh bien! bonsoir.

Sixte Choua allait se retirer, lorsque soudain M. Fr?d?ric se frappa le front en poussant un grand cri:

--Ah! mon Dieu! quel malheur!

--Quoi donc?

--Tu ne comprends pas? J'ai fait voir ? Faro une pi?ce de cinq francs; il a mal compris, je lui ai mal expliqu?. Il a cru qu'il m'en fallait une quelconque, et alors...

--Alors?

--Oh! c'est affreux! alors il a rencontr? quelqu'un, il l'a attaqu?, il l'a peut-?tre d?vor? pour m'apporter ma pi?ce, qui n'est pas ma pi?ce. Sainte Vierge Marie, quel malheur!

--Allons, du calme, Fr?d?ric, sois un homme, dit Sixte Choua. Voyons d'abord ce que c'est que cette loque.

Les deux amis ne tard?rent pas ? reconna?tre le restant d'une culotte de gendarme.

--Assassiner un gendarme! Quel gueux que ce Faro! s'exclama M. Fr?d?ric, d?sesp?r?.

Sixte Choua ne voulut pas abandonner son voisin, et les deux amis pass?rent une nuit horrible ? se consulter. Faro ne comprenait rien aux gourmades qu'il recevait, et, en philosophe, il alla se coucher dans la grange pour les ?viter.

A l'aube, les deux amis, qui avaient r?solu d'aller droit au danger, se dirig?rent vers la gendarmerie.

A moiti? route, ? l'endroit m?me o?, la veille, il avait voulu faire sa malencontreuse exp?rience, il aper?ut un groupe de gendarmes. En les apercevant, Faro s'?tait pr?cipit? ? leur rencontre, et Camar?on l'avait reconnu. En deux temps de galop, il fut aupr?s de M. Fr?d?ric.

--Il est ? vous, ce chien? fit-il

--Oui, brigadier.

--Et ma culotte?

--La voici, r?pondit piteusement M. Fr?d?ric en tirant de sa veste un lambeau de drap.

--Ah! Ah! je vous tiens donc, assassins du boucher du Beausset! dit Camar?on.

Et mettant pied ? terre, il commen?a l'interrogatoire.

Il ne fut pas difficile de s'expliquer, et gendarmes et inculp?s all?rent d?ner chez M. Fr?d?ric.

La culotte fut g?n?reusement pay?e.

--C'est ?gal, vous avez l? un fameux chien, dit Camar?on.

--Qu'est-ce que je te disais, hein, Sixte?

--Que veux-tu? voil? ce qu'on peut appeler un pur hasard!

FLORIAN PHARAON.

The battle was won!

As soon as the hauler had grappled itself onto the prized asteroid, Bob Parker jumped to his feet with a grin on his face as wide as the void. Queazy grabbed his arm and pounded his shoulder. Bob shook him off, losing his elation.

"Cut it," he snapped. "It's too early for the glad-hand business. We've solved one problem, but we've run into another, as we knew we would."

He crossed determinedly to Starre, tipped up her downcast face.

"Starre," he said, "I guess you know I love you. If I asked you to marry me--"

"No! Couldn't ask you to marry me unless I had money. Starre, if it was up to me I'd drop the asteroid on the Moon, and you wouldn't have to take a chance on marrying a man you don't love. But I'm in partnership with Queazy and Queazy has his due--"

Queazy intervened, his grey eyes troubled. "No," he said quietly. "Hold on. I'll willingly forego any interest in the asteroid, Bob."

Bob laughed. "Nuts to you, Queazy! Don't get gallant. We'll be so deep in debt we'll never be independent again the rest of our lives if we don't land the asteroid. Thanks, anyway."

He took a deep breath. "Starre, you'll have to trust me. Today's the last of May. We've got two more days before we have to fill the order. In those two days, I think I can evolve a procedure to put all of us in the clear--with the exception of your fianc? and your grandfather. Which, I think, is as it should be, because these days people pick out their own husbands and wives. In other words, a few minutes before your wedding, the asteroid will be delivered--on schedule!"

"I'll trust you, Bob," Starre said huskily, after a moment of quiet. "But whatever you've got in mind, to put one over on my grandfather, it better be good...."

For a day and a half, ship and attached asteroid pursued a slow, unpowered orbit around Earth. For a day and a half, Bob Parker hardly slept. He gave Queazy charge of the ship entirely, had him send an ethergram to Andrew S. Burnside announcing that his asteroid would show up in time for the wedding, and that the bride would be there too.

Most of Bob's time was spent on the surface of the asteroid. He took spectroscopic readings from every possible angle, made endless notations on a pad. Sometimes, he worked in his cabin, and Queazy, ambling puzzledly into Bob's presence, could make nothing of the countless pages of calculation strewn about the room--figures which dealt with melting points, refractive indices, atmospheric velocities.

And finally, when Bob tore the ship and prisoned asteroid from their orbit, sent them into Earth's atmosphere, Queazy could make nothing of that either.

For Bob Parker apparently had a rigid schedule to follow in reference to the hour set for Starre's wedding. He hit the atmosphere at a certain second, at a certain speed. He followed a definite route through the atmosphere, slowly moving downward as he crossed the great Asiatic continents. He passed as slowly over the Atlantic, passed above New York City scarcely a dozen miles, and hovered over Philadelphia at last, a mile up.

Then he called Starre into the control room. She looked distracted, pale. She was wearing slacks and was as completely unprepared for her marriage as she could manage. Bob grinned, took her cold hand affectionately.

"We're over Philadelphia, Starre. You can point out the general section of the city of your granddad's home and estate for me. We'll be landing at 11:15 A.M. That's in about a half-hour. Whatever you do, make certain you aren't--ah--married before 12 o'clock. Okay?"

She extracted her hand from his, nodding dumbly. She sat down at the photo-amplifiers, and for the next fifteen minutes studied the streets below and guided him south. Then Bob dropped the ship until it was only a few hundred feet from the ground. Around them pleasure craft circled, and on the streets and fields below people ran excitedly, pointing upward at the largest asteroid ever to be brought to the planet.

The ship labored over the fields with its tremendous burden, finally hovered over a clearing bordered by leafy oak and sycamore trees, part of Burnside's tremendous "back yard." There was a man with a red flag down there. Bob followed his directions, slowly brought the asteroid, rough side down, onto the carefully tended lawn. Then he lifted the hauler, placed it firmly on the opposite side of the clearing. Bob relaxed, wiped his sweating face, and felt a cool breeze as Queazy opened the airlock.

Minutes later, Starre Lowenthal was the center of an excited, mystified group of wedding guests. Among them was her grandfather, a wrinkled, well-preserved old gentleman who alternately kissed her and flew into rages. Another man, handsome, blond, came rushing up, sweeping everybody out of his way. He took Starre in his arms, fervently. Bob Parker hated him at sight.

Burnside cornered Starre and some sort of an argument ensued. Starre was insisting that she dress for the wedding, and finally her grandfather gave in. Starre flung a final, pleading look at Bob, and then disappeared toward the great white house with the Georgian pillars. Most of the guests trailed after her, and Burnside came stomping up to Bob. He thrust a slip of green paper into his hands.

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