Skeleton Key Read Online Free Page A

it do you remember?”
    She sought wildly for some recollection. “There was an experiment where you put sodium in a tank of water, and it ran around. Mine blew up,” said Georgine unhappily. “I’m afraid that’s all I—”
    â€œAny physics? Bacteriology?”
    Bang went the winter coat. “None,” she admitted.
    â€œYou’re hired,” said Professor Paev, briskly rising.
    Georgine blinked at him. There was something odd about these requirements; but again, for a moment, the hundred dollars seemed to flutter within her reach.
    And then the Professor flung over his shoulder, “I will call the Acme Agency and tell them that if you prove reasonably accurate, I shall be satisfied.” He was halfway to the hall before her voice stopped him.
    â€œProfessor Paev, I’m not from the Acme Agency.”
    The man stopped short. Then, with a curious deliberation, he closed the door and came across the room to her chair. “Who sent you here?” he said harshly.
    â€œNobody. It just happens that I can type. I’m slow, but I’m accurate. And if it isn’t taking the bread out of somebody’s—”
    â€œWho hired you to spy on me?”
    â€œNobody, I tell you!”
    â€œIt’s diabolical,” said the Professor, breathing rapidly, “but I might have suspected it. Somehow, they must have figured that my experiments were nearly complete. They’d know how much I needed a typist. They should have prepared you better.” The high bald head swooped down at her. “You might as well tell me who it was, I’ll pay for the information!”
    â€œI think you’re crazy,” said Georgine, and thrust herself to her feet. “Do I look like a spy? I came here to sell you some magazines, and before I got the words out of my mouth you offered me a job that it just happens I can do! Who wouldn’t take it? I need the money, you need a typist. And what on earth would I be spying about ?”
    â€œAh,” said Professor Paev with a mirthless smile, “you would like to know, would you?”
    They stood glaring at each other. Neither moved, but Georgine had a fantastic mental picture of two cats jockeying for position before a fight. If she held this pose much longer she’d burst into laughter.
    â€œThis is absurd,” she said crisply. “I didn’t intend to cheat you. It’s a shame, too, when so many typists have disappointed you—but I see why, now.”
    The Professor’s eyes narrowed. He said nothing.
    â€œBefore I go, could I interest you in any subscriptions, renewals, gift offers? I was afraid not. Well, good-by.”
    She heard an odd rusty sound. It seemed that Professor Paev was chuckling. “Wait,” he said. “We might come to an understanding. Perhaps—an exchange of references?”
    â€œDid you say exchange?” Georgine paused on the verge of a step. “That’s more like it.”
    â€œAh, yes. Someone whom we can both trust. I live alone here, you see, though Mrs. Blake is always present during the day. But perhaps I should tell you one thing: the consensus of the neighborhood is that I am perfecting a Death Ray in my laboratory.”
    Georgine gave him a penetrating look.
    â€œI admit,” he said blandly, “that I may have given them that impression myself. Indeed, in one sense it is not far from the truth. But you needn’t feel any alarm, Mrs. Wyeth.”
    Dear me , she thought; that gasp of mine must have been obvious .
    At five o’clock that afternoon Georgine was still at 82 Grettry Road, the home of Professor Alexis Paev; and she was still slightly dizzy and incredulous.
    What an afternoon; up, down, up again in spirits; luck handed her, luck snatched away. The voice on the telephone, that of the President of the Parent-Teachers Association of Emerson School, who had fortunately remembered Mrs. Wyeth; the voice saying,