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The driver was swearing loudly at one of the Tyringham veterans who had wedged himself into the door of the machine. With some difficulty I extricated Scotty from his hazardous position. She began immediately to deliver orders in an authoritative tone as to the rescue of her belongings.
Owing to his misfortune with the mules the O.C. ordered him to report for duty on my gun and Scotty came into the lines with us the following week. I was in charge of a trench mortar and our duty was to send over 8 or 10 shells, instantly take the gun to pieces and remove it to another position for the purpose of getting away from the return fire that Fritz was sure to send.
"Otherwise, why go to all the trouble of trying to get it in the bazaar, then taking the risk of searching our room?" Rick said what had been on his mind. "I have another happy thought for you. If they really want the cat, they'll try again." "Whoever 'they' are," Scotty agreed. "Let me add a cheery note of my own while we're at it.
To Rick's astonishment the man tucked the pistol into a capacious jacket pocket, then turned and walked toward the outer entrance. Rick, Scotty, and Hassan followed. In a few moments they stood blinking in the sunlight. Their rescuer gave them a polite bow. "You are probably wondering who I am, and how I appeared so opportunely, eh? Allow me to introduce myself. I am Kemel Moustafa."
The floor of the blind was level with their chests. Rick looked in. There wasn't much space, since the blind had been built to provide only a place for hunters to sit, wait, and then shoot from kneeling or sitting positions. Both boys put their equipment on the dry wooden floor. Then Rick swung himself up and pushed the equipment back to make room for Scotty.
"Probably the second pair is in case the first pair loses us," Rick guessed. "Let's keep out of deserted alleys. They must be just waiting for an opportunity to grab us." "I hear you talking," Scotty agreed. "And I believe every Brantish word of it." They turned into the museum grounds, waving off guides who came running.
The liquor worked its will with me; the talk of Scotty and the harpooner poured through the pent space of the Idler's cabin and through my brain like great gusts of wide, free wind; and in imagination I lived my years to come and rocked over the wild, mad, glorious world on multitudinous adventures. We unbent. Our inhibitions and taciturnities vanished.
If they persist, you shoot near them. If they keep coming, you shoot at them. Understand?" "You bet," answered Scotty with enthusiasm. "All right," concluded Thorpe. Next day Scotty established himself, as had been agreed. He did not need to shoot anybody. Daly himself came down to investigate the state of affairs, when his men reported to him the occupancy of the dam.
And once Marks arrived, Spindrift would be the only base the JANIG men had to cover. That would make it simpler. Rick decided he might as well put the matter out of his mind. Barby, Jan, and Scotty were waiting for him on the front porch. Scotty asked, "What gives?" "Steve says to forget it." Jan frowned, her pretty face worried. "Barby told me about these odd hunches you sometimes get.
For an instant he glimpsed a black object above the canopy over the rear cockpit, then that, too, was lost in the rain. Shaken, Rick made his way back to the cabin, entered, closed the door, and leaned against it. Scotty looked up, and was on his feet in an instant. "Rick! What happened? You're white as a sheet!" he exclaimed. "Saw one," Rick managed. He was still shaking.
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