Johnnie by Dorothy B. Hughes Read Free Book Online Page A

this Luxembourg? And where were Rudamia and Trudamia? If Bill were here, he’d know. Or he’d look it up in the Base library. Trouble with Johnnie was he’d never taken much to schooling. But he’d played right end two years with Texas A. and M. Bill hadn’t done that even if he did know Shakespeare like it was a book.
    Johnnie sampled the chocolate éclair. Look it up. He could look it up himself. A house this big and fancy would be sure to have a dictionary. He took his plate and cup and made his way to the marble stairs. Below there were several of the knee-britched fellows marking time. The one Johnnie approached was bow-legged as a cowhand.
    “Have you got a dictionary?” Johnnie asked.
    “Yes, sir. This way, sir.”
    He trailed along to a room at the left beyond the staircase. The flunky opened the door. “The library, sir. You will find the reference works over there, sir.” Over there was just a couple of miles away down the room.
    “Okay,” said Johnnie. This room had more books in it than the Carnegie library back home. They were stacked on shelves from the floor to the high ceiling. Bill would sure go for this library. Even Johnnie did. There was a real fire burning in the fireplace. Soon as he took a look at the dictionary—it wouldn’t be the dictionary, he knew better than that, it would be the encyclopedia—he’d stretch out on the couch by the fire for a smoke. Meantime he’d better look up those places while he had a chance. He didn’t take to this flying blind.
    There were plenty of high-backed velvet chairs pulled up in front of the shelves. Each one had a reading stand beside it with a little pin-point light attached. It didn’t look as if you could read by such a little light but it worked fine. Johnnie pulled out Lu, Ru, and Tr; stacked them beside him. His plate and coffee he set on the reading stand. That worked fine too. He lifted Ru to his lap. While he was thumbing for Rud, he finished the strawberry pie.
    The door at the other end of the room was opening softly. Johnnie froze. When he had the nerve he peered around the back of his chair. Magda was closing the door even more softly. He ducked back again fast. He didn’t want her catching up to him, bossing him around, not until he’d finished eating. Evidently she didn’t see him because she didn’t say anything. The back of his chair was to the door and the coffee cup shaded the pin-point. He took another cautious peek. She was standing in front of the fire, her back to the reference corner, facing the door.
    Carefully Johnnie took up the chocolate éclair in his fingers, bit off a hunk. He didn’t have to chew; it melted in your mouth. Magda was waiting for someone. She didn’t wait long. The door opened again, not so carefully. Johnnie didn’t dare take a glimpse just yet. Anyone coming in the door could see him if he stuck his neck out. He didn’t need a look. He knew the voice. It was the only male voice he’d heard tonight that he’d want to hear again. It was Ruprecht.
    Johnnie heard him close the door and walk over toward the fireplace. He was saying lazylike and still kind of tight, “What’s the game, Gorgeous? Psst, meet me in the library at midnight.”
    Johnnie took a quick one at his watch. It wasn’t midnight. It wasn’t even ten o’clock.
    Magda said, “Oh, Ruprecht!” She sighed. She was putting it on thick for him. “I had to see you. I had to explain to you.”
    “Explain what?” There was a click, click. Johnnie peered fast. Ruprecht had set two quart bottles of champagne on the table by the couch.
    “Ruprecht, please.”
    “Don’t be a ninny, Magda. It’s worked, hasn’t it? Dorp smoked out Ottomkopf. Otto smoked out Rudolph. You’ve the Rudamian ring right now on your stunning finger, sweetheart. What is there to explain? Nary a hitch. How about a little toastie?”
    “Ruprecht!”
    Johnnie ducked back fast. He took a bite of éclair, a big one. That was the glint in the voice. But