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A Violin and the Law
David, a policeman, came to a cabin about two miles up the mountain to get Cal Richards, an armed and dangerous killer. Through a broken window, he saw an old man with a beard watching him closely. When he stepped into the cabin, he found the old man was pointing a gun at him. He looked around the cabin and didn't see any sign of Cal. "I guess I'll have to come again." he said. just then he caught sight of a violin hanging on the wall. "Who plays the violin?" he asked. For a moment there was silence. Actually Cal's father played the violin best in the area, but he didn't answer, with his gun still aiming at David.
David crossed the room and felt sweat on his forehead, but he took the violin from the wall as calmly as if he were a welcome visitor. He began to play the violin, one tune after another. He was playing better than he had ever played in his life.
The old man stood there, attracted. The hatred in his eyes was giving way to a look of wonder. The gun was now pointed towards the floor. He began to beat time, tapping one foot on the dirt floor. When the final notes of the tune died away, the old man placed the gun in a corner.
"Well, stranger," the old man said, "you play the violin excellently. Maybe you'll stay for dinner and play some more for me."
After they had eaten, they sat in the spring sunshine outside the cabin. They talked about violin tunes. Not a word was said about Cal Richards.
About two hours later, David stood up and said, "Sorry! I must be getting back to the town."
The old man sat, deep in thought. At last, he said, "I like the way you talk and I like the way you play the violin. I guess you're a decent guy." He paused as if it were hard to go on. Then, he said in a thick voice, "I'll have a talk with Cal. I think he might give himself up tomorrow. You be at the police station at noon!"
The next day, as the town clock struck twelve, a bearded old man came up the street towards the police station. With him was a young fellow whose appearance told of many days in hiding .
小提琴和法律 大卫,一名警察,来到一间小木屋大约两公里上山,以得到卡尔·理查兹拿兵器的和危险的杀手。透过一扇破碎的窗户,他看见一位老人留着胡子窥探他。进船舱里出来时,他发现那个老人被枪对准他。他四处打量着小屋,没看到任何标志性的“华航”。“我想我要再来了。”他说,就在这时,突然看到一个小提琴挂在墙上。“谁拉小提琴吗?”他问道。一阵沉默。其实卡尔的父亲演奏小提琴的区域,但他没有回答,拿着枪还针对大卫。 大卫穿过解剖室,觉得汗水在他的额上,但他把小提琴来自墙上当平静地,好像他是一个受欢迎的参观者。他开始演奏小提琴,姿势一个接一个。他打得比他曾经参加了他的生命。 老人站在那里,吸引了。在他的仇恨使眼睛看看惊奇。枪已经指出向地板。他开始打拍子,攻丝一只脚在泥地板?当最终离我而去了这首曲子的笔记,老人把枪在角落里。 “嗯,陌生人,”老人说:“你的小提琴拉得很好。也许你会留下来吃晚饭,放一些更多的发生在我的身上。” 他们吃完,他们就坐在春天的阳光在小屋。他们谈论小提琴曲子。一个字都不要理查兹凯尔话。 大约两小时后,大卫站了起来,说道:“对不起!我必须回到小镇。" 老人坐着,陷入了沉思。最后,他说:“我喜欢听你这么说,我喜欢你现在打球的方式拉小提琴。我猜你是个不错的人。”他停顿了一下,如果它是很难继续下去。然后他说有着浓厚的声音,“我会和“华航”。我想他可能会使他在明天实现。你不应该在警察局中午!” 第二天,随着城镇钟敲十二时,一个大胡子老地图