He had thought they had one more day.
The long list of towns and villages where the Antelope had misappropriated materials and funds flashed through his mind.
The chairman was still wiggling his mustache, trying to digest the message, when Ostap jumped off the stand in mid-sentence and started making his way through the crowd.
The green Antelope was waiting at the intersection.
Fortunately, the other passengers were already in their seats. Bored, they were waiting for the moment when Ostap would order them to haul the town’s offerings into the car.
This usually happened after the ceremonies.
When the chairman finally grasped what the telegram was saying, he raised his eyes only to see the captain of the rally running away.
“They’re con artists!” he shouted in agony.
He had spent the whole night preparing his welcoming speech, and now his writer’s ego was wounded.
“Hold them, guys!”
The chairman’s shrieking reached the ears of the Antelopeans.
They began fussing nervously.
Kozlevich started the engine and leapt into his seat.
The car jumped forward without waiting for Ostap.
In their great hurry, the Antelopeans didn’t even realize they were abandoning their captain to grave danger.
“Stop!” yelled Ostap, making giant leaps. “I’ll get you! You’re all fired!”
“Stop!” yelled the chairman.
“Stop, you bonehead!” Balaganov yelled at Kozlevich.
“Can’t you see we’ve lost the chief?”
Adam hit the brakes, and the Antelope screeched to a halt.
The captain lunged into the car and screamed,
“Full speed ahead!” Despite his open-minded and cool-headed nature, he hated the idea of physical reprisal.
In a panic, Kozlevich jumped into third gear and the car jerked forward, forcing a door open and throwing Balaganov to the ground.
All this happened in a flash.
While Kozlevich was braking again, the shadow of the approaching crowd was already falling on Balaganov.
Huge hands were already stretching out to grab him, but then the Antelope crept back in reverse, and the captain’s steely hand seized him by his cowboy shirt.
“Full speed!” screamed Ostap.
And that’s when the citizens of Luchansk understood the advantages of automotive transport for the first time.
The car rattled away, delivering the four lawbreakers from their well-deserved punishment.
For the first mile, they just breathed heavily.
Balaganov, who valued his good looks, examined the red scratches left by the fall with the help of a pocket mirror.
Panikovsky was shaking in his fireman’s uniform.
He feared the captain’s retribution, and it came promptly.
“Did you tell the driver to take off before I could get in?” asked the captain harshly.
“I swear . . .” began Panikovsky.
“Don’t deny it!
It’s all your doing.
So you’re a coward on top of everything else?
I’m in the company of a thief and a coward?
Fine!
I am demoting you.
You were a fire chief in my eyes, but from now on, you’re just a simple fireman.”
And Ostap solemnly tore the golden pumps off of Panikovsky’s red collar patches.
After this procedure, Ostap apprised his companions of the contents of the telegram.
“We’re in trouble.
The telegram says to seize the green car that’s running ahead of the rally.
We need to get off to the side somewhere right away.
Enough of the triumphs, palm branches, and free dinners cooked with cheap oil.
This idea has outlived itself.
Our only option is to turn off onto the Griazhsk Road.