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The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cuckoo Clock, by Wesley Barefoot This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: The Cuckoo Clock Author: Wesley Barefoot Illustrator: Ernie Barth Release Date: August 6, 2009 [EBook #29623] Language: English Character set encoding: ASCII *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CUCKOO CLOCK *** Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net THE CUCKOO CLOCK BY WESLEY BAREFOOT _You know a murderer preys on your household--lives with you--depends on you--and you have no defence!_ Death wore the seeming of a battered Chevrolet. The child's scream and the screech of rubber on concrete knifed through two seconds of time before snapping, like a celery stalk of sound, into aching silence. The silence of limbo, called into being for the space of a slow heartbeat. Then the thud of running feet, the rising hubbub of many voices. "Give her air!" "Keep back. Don't try to move her." "Somebody call an ambulance." "Yeah, and somebody call a cop, too." "I couldn't help it." It was the driver of the ramshackle Chevvie. "She fell off the curb right in front of me. Honest to God, it wasn't my fault." "Got to report these things right away," said the grey-haired man beside him. "No cause to worry if you ain't to blame." "Probably no brakes," said a heavily accented voice, and another spoke as if on cue, "Probably no insurance, neither." "Let me through! Oh, please--" The woman's voice was on the edge of hysteria. She came through the crowd like an automaton, not seeing the people she shoved and elbowed aside. * * * * * "D.O.A.," said the woman heavily. Her face was no longer twisted with shock, and she was almost pretty again. "D.O.A. Dead on arrival, it means. Oh, Jim, I never knew they said that." Suddenly there were tears in her blue eyes. There had been many tears, now. [Illustration: _Illustrator_: Ernie Barth] "Take it easy, Jean, honey." Jim Blair hoisted his lank six feet out of the old rocker, and crossed the room, running a nervous hand through his cornshuck hair. _She's only thirty_, he thought, _a
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