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McKay, amused, shook his head. "Sorry," he said, "but I couldn't permit you to fish." "Aw, come on, old scout! We heard you was American same as us. That's my sister down there and her feller. My name's Jim Macniff some Scotch somewhere. That there feller is Harry Skelton. Horses is our business Spitalfields Mews here's my card " pulling it out "I'll come up on the bridge " "Never mind.
"Four-two-four. Oh, what a fright you gave me. What is your name?" "That is against regulations." "I know. What is it, all the same.... Mine is Helsa Kampf." "Mine is Johann Wolkcer." "Wolkcer? Is it Polish?" "God knows where we Germans had our origin. ... Who are your companions, Fraulein?" "An Irish-American. Jim Macniff, and a British revolutionist, Harry Skelton.
And now to go for to do us in like that " "Well, we're all right, ain't we?" quavered Macniff. "We make our getaway all right, don't we? Don't we?" "I can't understand " "Say, listen, Harry. To blazes with Helsa! She's hollered and that ends her. But can we make our getaway? And how about them Germans waitin' for us by that there crucifix on top of this mountain? Where do they get off?
Twice the girl tried to speak but Skelton shook the voice out of her quivering lips as a shadowy figure rose from the scrubby growth behind the Crucifix. Then another rose, another, and many others looming against the sky. Macniff had begun to speak in German as they drew around him. Presently Skelton broke in furiously: "All right, then! That's the case. She sold us.
Where do you think?" "You gotta cross the mountain, then or go back into France." But neither man dared do that now. There was only one way out, and that lay over Mount Terrible either directly past the black crucifix towering from its limestone cairn on the windy peak, or just below through a narrow belt of woods. "It ain't so bad," muttered Macniff.
Macniff started nervously and began to run along the path, upward: "Beat it, Harry," he called back over his shoulder; "it's the only way out o' this now." "God," whimpered Skelton, "if I ever get my hooks on Helsa!" His voice ended in a snivel but his features were white and ferocious as he started running to overtake Macniff.
Tell that to Macniff and Skelton when they come; that's what I want you here for. I want to cut off the Yankees' retreat. Do you understand?" "I understand," she breathed. "You'll carry out my orders?" She nodded, strove to straighten up, then with both hands on her breast she sank back utterly exhausted. Recklow looked at her a moment in grim silence, then turned and walked away.
To his dull, throbbing ears came now only the heavy trample of boots among the rocks, guttural noises, a wrenching sound, then the clatter of rolling stones. Macniff, squatting beside him, muttered uneasily, speculating upon what was being done behind him. But with German justice upon a German he had no desire to interfere, and he had no stomach to witness it, either.
The picnickers were getting up from the crushed heather; Macniff with his banjo came toward them on his incredibly thick legs, blocking their path. "Say, sport," he began, "won't you and the lady join us?" But McKay cut him short: "Do you know you are impudent?" he said very quietly. "Step out of the way there." "The hell you say!" and McKay's patience ended at the same instant.
Others await us on Mount Terrible Germans in Swiss uniforms." "You'd better keep an eye on Macniff and Skelton," grumbled Recklow. "No; they're to be trusted. We nearly caught McKay and the Erith girl in Scotland; they killed four of our people and hurt two others.... Listen, comrade Wolkcer, if a trodden path ascends Mount Terrible, as Skelton pretended, you and I had better look for it.
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