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The major, Leclair, and Ferrara an expert swordsman he had been, in the Italian army possessed themselves of the others. Bohannan whistled his scimitar through the air. "Very fine I call it!" he exclaimed, with a joyful laugh. "Some little game of tag, what? And our Moslem friends are still 'it! We're still ahead!"
Quite at once, without delay, the little door of the pilot-pit in the wasp's head swung wide, and a heavily-swaddled figure clambered out. This figure stood a moment, peering about through goggles. Then with a free, quick stride, he started forward toward the gallery where he had seen Bohannan and the Master. The two awaited him.
Major Bohannan was with the Master. Both men, now in uniform, showed little effect of the sleepless night they had passed. Wine of excitement and stern duties to perform, joined with powerful bodies, made sleeplessness and labor trivialities.
Six guns against perhaps six hundred and we're not built for rapid maneuvering. That swarm could sting us a thousand times while we were giving them the first round. No, no, there's nothing for it now, but the neutralizer!" "My will is made, anyhow," growled Bohannan. "Faith, I'm glad it is!"
I imagine your orderly, Rrisa, will have something to say when he learns that we have Beni Harb as opponents. Now, sir, we shall make all haste to get the machine-guns into action!" Major Bohannan laughed with more enjoyment than he had shown since Nissr had left America. They both saluted and withdrew.
The only factor that could possibly have astonished him, just now, would have been the nonappearance of that slight, luminous cloudlet at the precise spot and moment designated. Neither Bohannan, Alden, nor Rrisa was watching the slow descent of the lethal gas. All three had their eyes fixed on their own lethal-gas pistols and on their watches.
To descend into that maelstrom of frenzied murder-lust took courage of the highest order. But neither Bohannan nor the Frenchman had even paled. Not one of their men showed any hesitancy whatever. "Ready, sir," said the major, crisply. "Faith, give the signal and down we go; and we'll either bring back what we're going after, or we'll all come back and report ourselves dead!"
Everything's been arranged, already, but in dealing with human beings there's bound to be a little confusion. They aren't automata unfortunately. And, Major!" "Yes, sir?" answered Bohannan, who despite his familiarity with the Master was now constrained to formality. Resentment sounded in his voice. "Send Brodeur to relieve me, in about ten minutes." "Yes, sir," repeated the Celt.
For more than an hour, Nissr's shadow leaped across this utter solitude of death. The Master summoned Leclair, Bohannan, and "Captain Alden," and for some time gave them careful instructions which none but they were allowed to hear. All this time, the strange, yellowish sheen against the heavens was increasing. What might lie beyond the mountains who could tell?
Bohannan flung the window-pane to one side, and blazed away like mad at the attackers. A shatter of broken glass burst into the pilot-house. Alden, catching his breath, quivered. He uttered no outcry, but his right hand went across and clutched his wounded left arm. "Got you?" cried the major, still pumping lead.
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