The Adventures of Tintin Read Free Book Online

the coupe to the basket of a nearby bicycle, whose rider also yelled at him. Snowy barked, but the rider didn’t understand him the way Tintin did. He looked out over the basket and saw the van getting farther away—and the bicycle was slowing down!
    Again he jumped down to the street and ran at top speed toward the docks, cutting through a pen full of cows. He had to zigzag sharply through the forest of legs and hooves. The cows lowed and shied away from him, making it a dangerous trip. Snowy had a brief urge to herd them, but he put it aside. He had to find Tintin!
    Emerging from the cattle pen, he came out onto the docks and saw the crate containing Tintin being loaded onto an enormous cargo ship. Snowy slowed and tried to keep out of sight, scooting from a canvas-covered stack of crates to an abandoned car to a coil of rope nearly as big as the car. He watched the crate disappear into the ship and whined, trying to figure out how he could get aboard.
    The loading ramp was out of the question. There were too many people watching. He looked up and down the dock, growing more and more anxious.
There!
    Bursting from his cover, Snowy ran across the dockside railroad tracks to one of the mooring pillars at the edge of the dock. The rope looped around it was so thick that it would have taken him a month to chew through it. He jumped to the top of the pillar and tiptoed up the gently curving rope before making a final jump onto the upper deck. Below, one of the crewmen on the ramp shouted. Snowy looked down and saw the crewman pointing at him.
Uh-oh
. He had to hide again.
    He dashed across the deck and disappeared into the ship’s superstructure, pausing for a breath once he got to a quiet, dark place where no one would think to look for him.
    Tintin was on the ship, and so was he. Now all Snowy had to do was find him.

    Tintin woke up slowly, confused because he was inside, someplace, and the last thing he remembered was talking to a deliveryman standing on his front stoop. He thought he heard the deliveryman’s voice. He cracked one eye open with effort as the deliveryman said, “Eh, not here. Your side, Tom.”
    Hands rummaged roughly through Tintin’s pockets and pulled at his coat. “Nothing,” Tom said.
    “Get that pocket,” the first man said.
    “I’ve looked at this one already, Allan,” Tom said. “I’m sure of it.”
    Tom and Allan
, Tintin thought.
Now we all know each other
. He was starting to feel almost awake again. “Have a look in his socks,” Allan said, and Tom did. Tintin’s foot twitched as Tom accidentally tickled him.
    Tintin rolled to one side. He couldn’t move his arms. Aware of a movement, he looked up and saw Sakharine, hatless but still wearing his red suit, approaching from a steel doorway. Looking around, Tintin put it all together. He was on a ship, below deck. He sat up and noted more details. His hands and feet were bound, and he was in a cage, probably in the ship’s hold. Light slanted down from a couple of portholes. Beyond their small pools of illumination, he could see the vague outlines of stacked crates and other cargo. Tintin filed all of it away, trying to keep a level head even though the situation was fairly dire. Who knew what might come in handy when it was time to escape?
    The two thugs who had searched him now stood waiting for Sakharine to give them some kind of direction. Allan was tall with hefty jowls, his face set in what seemed like a permanent frown beneath a leather captain’s cap. Tom was more heavyset, with a tweed cap and a few days’ black stubble darkening his cheeks and chin. Both wore heavy sweaters. Tom’s sweater was blue, while Allan’s was gray.
    “Have you found it?” Sakharine demanded.
    “Doesn’t have it,” Allan said.
    “It’s not on him, boss,” Tom agreed. “It’s not here.”
    “Not here? Then where is it?”
    “Where’s what?” Tintin asked. He felt that since they were talking about him, he ought to take part in the