The Return of Captain Conquer. Mel Gilden

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СКАЧАТЬ a ring,” Watson said, and grabbed for it.

      Pemberton pulled the ring away and continued to study it. “Hey, I know what it is,” he said with the joy of a caveman finding a particularly tasty louse in his hair, “it’s one-a them Captain Concourse rings! Hey, Maxwell,” he called to one of his gridiron friends, “lookit this!” He winked at three girls who stood together in the crowd that had gathered, and threw the ring to Maxwell. Watson dashed after it.

      “Hiya, Watson, solve any good crimes lately?” Maxwell laughed at his own wit. Somewhere, he had read a comic book about Sherlock Holmes, and his knowledge was forever a source of irritation for Wat­son. Watson tried to grab the ring as Maxwell tossed and caught it in one hand. Maxwell threw the ring back to Pemberton.

      Pemberton caught the ring easily in one hand and the girls sighed. He said, “My little sister watches this crap. She says she knows your old man, Con­gruent. Says he’s some kinda weird guy.” He held the ring out of reach while Watson stood with his arms folded and glared at him.

      The bell rang for first period. Pemberton tossed the Captain Conquer ring at Watson and said, “Stay outa trouble, Captain,” and iaughed as he and Max­well and two cheerleaders walked off together.

      The ring dropped. at Watson’s feet, and he had to scramble among rapidly moving legs, following it as it was kicked and spun this way and that and as it ricocheted along the corridor. He hoped the styrene plastic could stand up under this kind of punish­ment.

      Even before he took a good look at the ring, Watson could feel that it was broken. It was cracked along one seam, and a big triangular shard was miss­ing. Worst of all, the little mirror was cracked. Cer­tainly, nothing could follow now but bad luck.

      Wondering what he would.tell his father, Watson carefully buried the ring beneath some stiff fragrant sweat socks that had been in the back of his locker for two semesters, then walked off to his biology class hoping that nobody who knew him had seen his adventure with Pemberton and Maxwell.

      Watson needn’t have worried because the two football players had spread the story of his humilia­tion all over the school. Even his physical education teacher called him Captain Concourse once.

      There was no relief even when he was alone, be­cause Watson had to think about what he would tell his father, and what his father would say, and how awful both of them would feel. It was a terrible day.

      On the bus ride home, Watson opened his history book and pretended to be studying. But all he saw before him was his father’s disappointed face.

      However, the day at school was nothing compared to what life was like when Watson got home. To begin with, traffic was snarled when he got off the bus, and it got worse as he walked toward his house. The Department of Transportation work crew had gone, but they had left behind yellow sawhorses straddling the open trenches they had dug into the street. People honked and shouted nasty things at each other as they tried to steer slowly by in their cars.

      Watson watched the traffic for as long as he could, then he sighed. He could not put off forever telling his father that the ring was broken. But when he turned to look at the house with two front doors, he found nothing but a path leading up to an empty dirt plot where his house had once been.

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