Read Online Tom Swift and the Asteroid Pirates by Victor Appleton II - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Victor Appleton II
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Yakunetsky was no Chow Winkler. The Russian emigre was finicky, persnickety, excitable, and on occasion somewhat full of himself. Now his expression was fierce.
"Wrong? Wrong? Pfah ! Where are they?"
"Misplace your midmorning snacks?" asked Bud with wry innocence.
The cook reared up with a glare of indignation. "Snacks? Nutsense! You think I am the Winkler, to make tidbits of mongeese?"
"Mongeese?" Arv repeated.
"Of course mongeese ! There are two of them. I should say mon gooses ?"
Tom suddenly understood—although it was, admittedly, a peculiar thing to understand! "You mean there’s a mongoose running around in here, Boris?—that is, two of ’em?"
The ex-Russian glared at his employer. "Isn’t it not what I say? There are two mongeese! Can you not hear them?"
"Right," said Tom. "That sound."
"It is they. They wish to mate, it strikes me."
"I get it," Bud said. "A male and a female."
"One might hope so!"
Arv Hanson was looking about into the corners of the lab room, which was large and square —and crowded with lab tables and equipment. "I can sure hear them. But where are they?"
Boris scowled. "Hmmph, you Swedes. Should I know that, would I be asking you?"
There was a pause in the sound—and then it suddenly redoubled! The four whirled to see what was causing it, and Bud exclaimed in astonishment.
A small, grayish-brown weasel-like animal was peering with glittering eyes from between the legs of a chair. Its back was humped like a spitting cat’s and its fur was bristling angrily. As the creature stood glaring, a second mongoose, the mate-in-waiting, poked its head out from behind a test stand nearby. "Good night!" gulped Tom. "What in the wide world are they doing here?"
"I do believe you can see what they are doing with your own blue eyes," sniffed Boris. "They are being pests, wild varmints , and mocking us with annoying noises."
Tom was patient, and becoming amused. "Yes. But why are they here?"
The emigre chef did not answer for a moment, and began to look somewhat abashed. "It was my own experiment, sir, perhaps to assist you. Winkler does such things, and he— he is given many privileges."
"What sort of experiment was it?" Hanson asked.
Boris smiled boldly. "Ah, my marvelous idea! The scuttling-butt of the grapevine speaks of a snake that is loose, a cobra. Very dangerous, hmm? So I buy from fellow Russian, a sea trader, two mongeese. They are to breed, many babies, all to be trained as watching dogs."
Tom stifled a laugh. "Watchdogs!"
"Illych says they are easily trained, and very intelligent. And do not many facilities like this Enterprises have such protectors?"
"Well, Boris, it was a good idea," said Tom, not wishing to disparage the man’s good intentions. "It’s sure true that a mongoose would make a perfect protector against a snake. Over in India they’re champ cobra-killers. But ... "
"You are giving me a but ?"
"But the Enterprises grapevine was passing along bad data. There’s no snake loose here. It’s just a kind of nickname, for a person."
"A bad person? Might you not wish to have him bitten?"
Arv chuckled. "They may be smart, but my guess is they’d bite a hundred good guys before hitting on a bad one."
"Besides, Bor, they’re illegal," Bud remarked. "Can’t bring ’em into this country— if they get loose they start killing poultry and small game."
"I see." Boris reddened in anger. "I shall speak of this to Illych! I have long suspected he is not true Russian, but Ukrainian." The cook explained that both creatures had escaped their cage in his kitchen while he was trying to feed them.
"Tell you what, I’ll have some people from Life Sciences come over to, er, apprehend them," Tom promised. "We’ll keep ’em in the zoology cages aboard the Sky Queen , and arrange to find them safe haven—in another country."
"Where they will not be illegal aliens," sniffed Boris with a look of disdain. "Very well."
After the lab was cleared of mongeese, and of
"Wrong? Wrong? Pfah ! Where are they?"
"Misplace your midmorning snacks?" asked Bud with wry innocence.
The cook reared up with a glare of indignation. "Snacks? Nutsense! You think I am the Winkler, to make tidbits of mongeese?"
"Mongeese?" Arv repeated.
"Of course mongeese ! There are two of them. I should say mon gooses ?"
Tom suddenly understood—although it was, admittedly, a peculiar thing to understand! "You mean there’s a mongoose running around in here, Boris?—that is, two of ’em?"
The ex-Russian glared at his employer. "Isn’t it not what I say? There are two mongeese! Can you not hear them?"
"Right," said Tom. "That sound."
"It is they. They wish to mate, it strikes me."
"I get it," Bud said. "A male and a female."
"One might hope so!"
Arv Hanson was looking about into the corners of the lab room, which was large and square —and crowded with lab tables and equipment. "I can sure hear them. But where are they?"
Boris scowled. "Hmmph, you Swedes. Should I know that, would I be asking you?"
There was a pause in the sound—and then it suddenly redoubled! The four whirled to see what was causing it, and Bud exclaimed in astonishment.
A small, grayish-brown weasel-like animal was peering with glittering eyes from between the legs of a chair. Its back was humped like a spitting cat’s and its fur was bristling angrily. As the creature stood glaring, a second mongoose, the mate-in-waiting, poked its head out from behind a test stand nearby. "Good night!" gulped Tom. "What in the wide world are they doing here?"
"I do believe you can see what they are doing with your own blue eyes," sniffed Boris. "They are being pests, wild varmints , and mocking us with annoying noises."
Tom was patient, and becoming amused. "Yes. But why are they here?"
The emigre chef did not answer for a moment, and began to look somewhat abashed. "It was my own experiment, sir, perhaps to assist you. Winkler does such things, and he— he is given many privileges."
"What sort of experiment was it?" Hanson asked.
Boris smiled boldly. "Ah, my marvelous idea! The scuttling-butt of the grapevine speaks of a snake that is loose, a cobra. Very dangerous, hmm? So I buy from fellow Russian, a sea trader, two mongeese. They are to breed, many babies, all to be trained as watching dogs."
Tom stifled a laugh. "Watchdogs!"
"Illych says they are easily trained, and very intelligent. And do not many facilities like this Enterprises have such protectors?"
"Well, Boris, it was a good idea," said Tom, not wishing to disparage the man’s good intentions. "It’s sure true that a mongoose would make a perfect protector against a snake. Over in India they’re champ cobra-killers. But ... "
"You are giving me a but ?"
"But the Enterprises grapevine was passing along bad data. There’s no snake loose here. It’s just a kind of nickname, for a person."
"A bad person? Might you not wish to have him bitten?"
Arv chuckled. "They may be smart, but my guess is they’d bite a hundred good guys before hitting on a bad one."
"Besides, Bor, they’re illegal," Bud remarked. "Can’t bring ’em into this country— if they get loose they start killing poultry and small game."
"I see." Boris reddened in anger. "I shall speak of this to Illych! I have long suspected he is not true Russian, but Ukrainian." The cook explained that both creatures had escaped their cage in his kitchen while he was trying to feed them.
"Tell you what, I’ll have some people from Life Sciences come over to, er, apprehend them," Tom promised. "We’ll keep ’em in the zoology cages aboard the Sky Queen , and arrange to find them safe haven—in another country."
"Where they will not be illegal aliens," sniffed Boris with a look of disdain. "Very well."
After the lab was cleared of mongeese, and of
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