Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: July 19, 2025
She never could understand why her father and lover hated the fellow so. "Thank you, Koppy. Not a bit of danger as it happened. It was good of you to be concerned." The Pole repeated the obeisance. Conrad caught his eye as he lifted his head. "And now," he ordered shortly, "you've learned all you're likely to. Get out." A flash of anger came and went in the underforeman's face.
For several seconds Koppy held the coward's faltering eyes, then turned with disgust to the others. "What will we do with him?" Morani's knife slid down his wrist and swished across his boot leg. And the others looked agreement. Werner shuddered began to bluster. "You asked what I thought. I told you. I didn't mean to give the whole thing up not much I didn't."
If you doubt it, refer to Werner and Morani." Koppowski coughed. "Indian strong man. Indian save your life. Godd! But he hurt my men. Indian look out. They never forget. You tell him?" "Tell him yourself," jerked the contractor. "And I'd like to be around when you're at it. I fancy he can look after himself." "Indian need to," said Koppy from the darkness.
He left them there, moving ponderously forward to the heart of a small clearing, where he paced up and down, chin in hand. The three followers watched from a distance. "Nap or was it Wellington at Waterloo or somewhere!" jeered Werner in a low voice. "The mutt thinks the whole world is watching . . . and I ain't sure it ain't." Koppy waved his hand, and they rejoined him.
"Camp same, boss think. Meeting in bush same time. Everything fine." The local president of the Workers of the World spread his hands out in modest deprecation of such applause. Werner seemed convinced. "You'd pull the wool over the eyes of a professional burglar, Koppy, while you stole his jemmy. But what's the idea of the meeting to-night? A crash right off the bat?"
With a muffled oath he let the foliage fall and dropped to the ground with the intuitive sense of the wild at evidence of an enemy. A moment's thought raised him to his feet again, to strike recklessly back along the river's brink into the bush. Koppy and his crew, he knew, were busy about the bridge at that hour; the whole out-of-doors was his.
That's the best way." "Why Koppy?" Conrad's eyes fell away sullenly. "He had the impertinence to imagine " He stopped. "I could shoot him like a mad dog," he exploded. Torrance chuckled. "That's the spirit, lad. I was going to say that there's only one way to handle the bohunk: beat him down. . . . D'ye realise, Adrian, you haven't killed a single one yet?
Koppy, the Polish under foreman, sent his eyes darting from face to face. In his manner was a curious mingling of bravado and diffidence a lumbering body, a shrinking way of holding himself, a stammering foreign accent and phrasing. But in spite of it there was ample ground for Torrance's persistent suspicions.
Volubly he struggled to support his story with convincing details, but his face was flushed and his eyes were anywhere but on his leader's. And Koppy smiled inscrutably. "Anyway, we still got ninety-two rifles," stammered Werner. "That surely ought " Koppy struck him to sudden silence by a peremptory hand. "You talk too much," he said acidly.
That contingency Koppy would no doubt have provided for by tearing up the track to east and west. And to drop the siege would not save the leaders. The Sergeant knew now that the attack had long been in plan, and every chance would be provided for. Daylight would make no difference, except that the bohunks would be more careful of their cover.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking