Read Online The Mind-Twisters Affair by Thomas Stratton - Free Book Online
Authors: Thomas Stratton
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that would explain the past month is more than welcome."
The agents relaxed; Illya removed his hand from the pocket containing the hypospray.
"How are you feeling?" Napoleon inquired. "You've been out cold for almost a full day. Think some food would do you any good?"
Armden nodded. A few minutes later Napoleon pulled into a drive-in. He spotted a section with picnic style tables and nosed the car up next to one. The three men got out of the car, Armden staggering a bit at first. After stretching their muscles, they all walked up to the self-service window.
A few minutes later, they moved back to the table, having avoided answering most of the inevitable questions about the car that were invariably asked by the other
customers. This sort of thing had happened at every stop, and the agents had by now developed a standard line of patter about cross country mileage tests and an experimental sports car. Illya usually pulled out a note book and asked for the names of anyone who wanted to receive free literature about the car. This usually discouraged most curiosity seekers, who were hesitant about having their names added to still another mailing list, but occasionally he would have to take down some names and addresses.
This looked like one of the times the notebook would be required. There hadn't been many customers, and all but one had quietly gone back to their own cars when the list was brought up. That one, however, was on his way to becoming a problem. A polite description, Illya decided, would be "garrulous old coot"
"Mileage test?" he was saying skeptically as he sat down uninvited across the table from Illya. "Nobody that gives a damn about mileage is gonna buy one of these. Lemme see that notebook; I'll bet you didn't even write my name down." He reached across the table toward Illya, practically dragging his jacket sleeve in Illya s coffee.
Illya irritably flipped the notebook open to show the man his name, Charley Lampton, and his address, meticulously recorded. Lampton turned abruptly to Armden and swung his arm around to point at him. "What about you? You're old enough to be their father. What are they up to, just between us old-timers, hey?"
Armden looked resentful, and avoided answering by taking a large bite from his Deluxe Iglooburger.
"He's a research physicist, and he's not my father," Napoleon said irritably.
Lampton turned his attention to Napoleon, who quickly snatched his coffee out of the path of the old coot's arm as it swung around like an erratic compass.
"Hey?" Lampton said.
"I said he's not my father," Napoleon repeated.
"Never said he was. Okay, if you're checking mileage, what is it? Hey?"
"24.7 at the last stop," Napoleon answered quickly. "We hope to do better than that on the way back, on the turnpikes and expressways," Illya added.
"Hey?" said Lampton. They repeated their statements. Lampton cackled. "You're pretty fast; you work together real well." He suddenly poked a finger at Napoleon's tie clip. Napoleon automatically jumped back, slopping a good portion of the coffee out of his cup.
"Real fast," Lampton said. "Sorry about that. I'll buy you another cup, hey?"
"It's all right; I'm already filled up with coffee."
"Hey?"
Gritting his teeth, Napoleon decided it would be easier to let the old coot buy him a cup. The man trotted off to get it, returned with it before the agents could get away, and planked himself down to watch Napoleon drink it.
Napoleon took a sip to be polite, decided that he really was filled up, and got up to leave.
"Don't waste good coffee," Armden said, picking up the cup and draining it hastily.
They walked around a bit for a final limbering-up before crawling back into the cramped car.
One hour and forty miles later, Napoleon shook his head violently. "Filled up or not, I think I should have drunk the coffee. Do you feel like taking it for awhile?" He glanced at Illya, who shook his head sleepily.
"Better not," Illya said slowly. "I don't know
The agents relaxed; Illya removed his hand from the pocket containing the hypospray.
"How are you feeling?" Napoleon inquired. "You've been out cold for almost a full day. Think some food would do you any good?"
Armden nodded. A few minutes later Napoleon pulled into a drive-in. He spotted a section with picnic style tables and nosed the car up next to one. The three men got out of the car, Armden staggering a bit at first. After stretching their muscles, they all walked up to the self-service window.
A few minutes later, they moved back to the table, having avoided answering most of the inevitable questions about the car that were invariably asked by the other
customers. This sort of thing had happened at every stop, and the agents had by now developed a standard line of patter about cross country mileage tests and an experimental sports car. Illya usually pulled out a note book and asked for the names of anyone who wanted to receive free literature about the car. This usually discouraged most curiosity seekers, who were hesitant about having their names added to still another mailing list, but occasionally he would have to take down some names and addresses.
This looked like one of the times the notebook would be required. There hadn't been many customers, and all but one had quietly gone back to their own cars when the list was brought up. That one, however, was on his way to becoming a problem. A polite description, Illya decided, would be "garrulous old coot"
"Mileage test?" he was saying skeptically as he sat down uninvited across the table from Illya. "Nobody that gives a damn about mileage is gonna buy one of these. Lemme see that notebook; I'll bet you didn't even write my name down." He reached across the table toward Illya, practically dragging his jacket sleeve in Illya s coffee.
Illya irritably flipped the notebook open to show the man his name, Charley Lampton, and his address, meticulously recorded. Lampton turned abruptly to Armden and swung his arm around to point at him. "What about you? You're old enough to be their father. What are they up to, just between us old-timers, hey?"
Armden looked resentful, and avoided answering by taking a large bite from his Deluxe Iglooburger.
"He's a research physicist, and he's not my father," Napoleon said irritably.
Lampton turned his attention to Napoleon, who quickly snatched his coffee out of the path of the old coot's arm as it swung around like an erratic compass.
"Hey?" Lampton said.
"I said he's not my father," Napoleon repeated.
"Never said he was. Okay, if you're checking mileage, what is it? Hey?"
"24.7 at the last stop," Napoleon answered quickly. "We hope to do better than that on the way back, on the turnpikes and expressways," Illya added.
"Hey?" said Lampton. They repeated their statements. Lampton cackled. "You're pretty fast; you work together real well." He suddenly poked a finger at Napoleon's tie clip. Napoleon automatically jumped back, slopping a good portion of the coffee out of his cup.
"Real fast," Lampton said. "Sorry about that. I'll buy you another cup, hey?"
"It's all right; I'm already filled up with coffee."
"Hey?"
Gritting his teeth, Napoleon decided it would be easier to let the old coot buy him a cup. The man trotted off to get it, returned with it before the agents could get away, and planked himself down to watch Napoleon drink it.
Napoleon took a sip to be polite, decided that he really was filled up, and got up to leave.
"Don't waste good coffee," Armden said, picking up the cup and draining it hastily.
They walked around a bit for a final limbering-up before crawling back into the cramped car.
One hour and forty miles later, Napoleon shook his head violently. "Filled up or not, I think I should have drunk the coffee. Do you feel like taking it for awhile?" He glanced at Illya, who shook his head sleepily.
"Better not," Illya said slowly. "I don't know
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