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Now it's up to you. Do try and do something, or we'll be out under the hundred. Mike waited till the outcoming batsman had turned in at the professionals' gate. Then he walked down the steps and out into the open, feeling more nervous than he had felt since that far-off day when he had first gone in to bat for Wrykyn against the M.C.C. He found his thoughts flying back to that occasion.
He was hesitating, mumbling there with his finger on the trigger when she went out of sight around a bush, still following where the tracks led. Mike stepped out from behind the tree and came bowlegging after her, walking with that peculiar, flat-footed gait of the mountain trained man. Luck was with her.
"Break!" They "broke" at his command, and, forgetting their animosities, began running in circles, in a hopeless effort to express their happiness. Suddenly, as if by common impulse, they appeared to remember a neglected duty, and fled noisily whence they had come. "Ah, only my dogs to welcome me!" Kay heard Don Mike murmur.
And with that she swished out of the office and left him flat. Yes, sir, she just blew him on the spot. I s'pose Mike would have got that tooth somehow he's a perseverin' party only that I happened to notice something queer and called him off. "Here, wait a minute," said I, and I loosened him from the man's chest.
Mike wished he could have told him in person, for Psmith had a way of treating unpleasant situations as if he were merely playing at them for his own amusement. Psmith's attitude towards the slings and arrows of outrageous Fortune was to regard them with a bland smile, as if they were part of an entertainment got up for his express benefit.
"All right, boy!" she cried, and, at the invitation, Panchito pricked up his ears and broke into an easy canter, gradually increasing his speed and taking the gate apparently without effort. Don Mike watched to see the girl rise abruptly in her seat as the horse came down on the other side of the gate. But no!
"True for you, Quambo," said Mike, laughing; "for the best of raisons there's no one else but meself could make the music come out of it." Our Indian escort having set off to return to the camp, according to orders, we crossed the river to the opposite bank, where our relatives had collected to receive us. Lily looked somewhat pale.
Joe saw Mike scoot the red space wagon to it, stop short with a sort of cocky self-assurance, hook on to the tow-ring in the floating space-barge's nose, and blast off back toward the Platform with it in tow. Mike had to turn about and blast again to check his motion when he arrived.
"How much of the machine do I have to take to power that milling-head?" he asked Tombu. "Oh, most of it's just control circuits. This box on the back is the power supply. Plugs right in to ship's power." "Hey!" Mike called over to Paul now busy constructing a bracket. "Make that bracket to hold this power supply, too. Oh, and round me up about sixty feet of extension cord, Tombu."
And at its heels, obedient as sheep, were Torrance's two horses. Six hundred yards of open trestle before the fill-in at the other side! Mahon held his breath. . . . "Mother o' Mike!" The horses had trotted out to safety, and Murphy was capering gleefully about. Mahon rushed to the corner of the shack and looked about. The Indian was nowhere in sight.
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