Читать книгу The Dark River онлайн

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"Good Lord, Tihoni!" the consul protested.

"'Sallright, Mr. Tyson. I always put him there anyway, when I got a load. He can't fall off. Now, then..."

Another front-seat passenger obligingly moved to the place thus emptied, and the others squeezed over a few inches so that Hardie and McLeod were able to wedge themselves down at the end of the seat. Their bags were tossed up to the supercargo, who stowed them away on the roof and then slid nimbly down. With a huge splay thumb, Tihoni pressed the button on his horn, which emitted a deafening blast.

McLeod winced. "Good-bye, Tyson," he said.

"You haven't gone yet, George," Tyson replied. "That's merely Tihoni's signal that he's ready to go if the engine is."

"That's right, Mr. Tyson," Tihoni said with a grin. "I ain't never sure just what she'll do, but sometimes I can scare her into it.... Hey, Méa!"

The supercargo seized the crank and spun it until the sweat poured down his face, the passengers looking on hopefully. Presently the driver got down to take a turn. Tyson chuckled as he watched them.