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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 240/416
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“
Well
,
we
’
ve
sure
stopped
,
”
observed
one
of
the
drummers
.
“
What
is
it
?
”
asked
Hilma
again
.
“
Are
you
sure
there
’
s
nothing
wrong
?
”
“
Sure
,
”
said
Annixter
.
Outside
,
underneath
their
window
,
they
heard
the
sound
of
hurried
footsteps
crushing
into
the
clinkers
by
the
side
of
the
ties
.
They
passed
on
,
and
Annixter
heard
some
one
in
the
distance
shout
:
“
Yes
,
on
the
other
side
.
”
Then
the
door
at
the
end
of
their
car
opened
and
a
brakeman
with
a
red
beard
ran
down
the
aisle
and
out
upon
the
platform
in
front
.
The
forward
door
closed
.
Everything
was
quiet
again
.
In
the
stillness
the
fat
gentleman
’
s
snores
made
themselves
heard
once
more
.
The
minutes
passed
;
nothing
stirred
.
There
was
no
sound
but
the
dripping
rain
.
The
line
of
cars
lay
immobilised
and
inert
under
the
night
.
One
of
the
drummers
,
having
stepped
outside
on
the
platform
for
a
look
around
,
returned
,
saying
:
“
There
sure
isn
’
t
any
station
anywheres
about
and
no
siding
.
Bet
you
they
have
had
an
accident
of
some
kind
.
”
“
Ask
the
porter
.
”
“
I
did
.
He
don
’
t
know
.
”
“
Maybe
they
stopped
to
take
on
wood
or
water
,
or
something
.
”
