Уловка 22

The Chaplain

           

           "Pleasedon’thurtme!"themanshoutedback.

           "I’mthechaplain!"

           "Thenwhydoyouwanttohurtme?"

           "Idon’twanttohurtyou!"thechaplaininsistedwitharisinghintofexasperation,eventhoughhewasstillrootedtothespot."Justtellmewhoyouareandwhatyouwantfromme."

           "IjustwanttofindoutifChiefWhiteHalfoatdiedofpneumoniayet,"themanshoutedback."That’sallIwant.Ilivehere.MynameisFlume.Ibelongtothesquadron,butIlivehereinthewoods.Youcanaskanyone."Thechaplain’scomposurebegantricklingbackashestudiedthequeer,cringingfigureintently.Apairofcaptain’sbarsulceratedwithrusthungontheman’sraggedshirtcollar.Hehadahairy,tar-blackmoleontheundersideofonenostrilandaheavyroughmustachethecolorofpoplarbark.

           "Whydoyouliveinthewoodsifyoubelongtothesquadron?"thechaplaininquiredcuriously.

           "Ihavetoliveinthewoods,"thecaptainrepliedcrabbily,asthoughthechaplainoughttoknow.Hestraightenedslowly,stillwatchingthechaplainguardedlyalthoughhetoweredabovehimbymorethanafullhead.

           "Don’tyouheareverybodytalkingaboutme?ChiefWhiteHalfoatsworehewasgoingtocutmythroatsomenightwhenIwasfastasleep,andIdon’tdareliedowninthesquadronwhilehe’sstillalive."Thechaplainlistenedtotheimplausibleexplanationdistrustfully."Butthat’sincredible,"hereplied.

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