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Updated: May 16, 2025
What was obviously the dossier slid from the desk chute and Holland leafed through it, as though disinterested. He said, "Joseph Mauser, born Mid-Lower, Clothing Category, Sub-division Shoes, Branch Repair." Holland looked up. "A somewhat plebian beginning, let us admit." A tic manifested itself at the side of Joe Mauser's mouth, but he said nothing.
He took a crashing blow to the side of his head which sent him sailing back into the recruiting line, now composed of excited, shouting verbal participants of the fray. However, the extinction of Joe Mauser's small ally had taken a moment or two and time was what Joe needed most. For a double second he had the oaf alone on his hands and that was sufficient.
Establishments which boasted live waiters, were rare enough in Joe Mauser's experience that he could easily remember the number of occasions he'd attended them. Nadine Haer, to the contrary, an hereditary aristocrat born, was totally unaware of the flunky's presence and would remain so until she required him. She looked at Joe from the side of her eyes, suspiciously.
For that matter, he had been saved the financial disaster as well, save for that amount he had contributed to the campaign to increase Mauser's stature in the eyes of the buffs. His Category Communications superiors had not even charged him for the cost of the equipment he had jettisoned from the glider during the flight, nor that which had been destroyed in the crash.
But while the three Lowers had failed to respond to Joe Mauser's tone of authority, there was no similar failure now. The owner of the voice, beautifully done up in the uniform of Vacuum Tube Transport, complete to kilts and the swagger stick of the officer of Rank Colonel or above, stood glaring at them.
He is the first to land, the last to leave, and to name the places where he has seen service well, one of them wrote a song once. "From the hills of Montezuma to the shores of Tripoli," it began. But he has seen more than Mexico or the Mediterranean since. He could now say: "From the hills of Montezuma to the gates of old Peking He has heard the shrapnel bursting, he has heard the Mauser's ping!
Sore throats, colds, and pneumonia resulted, and many a homesick boy who learned to wade the rice swamps and to face the Mauser's bullets fearlessly had his first hard lesson of endurance taught to him before he left Camp Leedy on the old Topeka Fair Ground. Wonderful history-making filled up the May days.
It was growing light, and we could see, lying on our right, the neutral camp; further away, on Bulwana, our biggest gun, where we knew General Joubert was standing, his wife by his side. Straight before us lay the key to Ladysmith Platrand, whence now and again came the sharp rat-tat of the Metford, followed by the Mauser's significant cough.
Joe said, "Sir, I've been working on this a long time. I can't afford to risk throwing the idea away." Bait Haer glared at him. "Very well, captain. I'll call your bluff, come along." He turned on his heel and headed from the room. Joe Mauser shrugged in resignation and followed him. The old Baron wasn't much happier about Joe Mauser's secrets than was his son.
Joe Mauser's eyes shifted around the room, taking in the other four, who were now looking at him. Bait Haer rapped, "These members of my staff are all trusted Haer employees, Captain Mauser. They are not fly-by-night freelancers hired for a week or two." Joe said, "Yes, sir. But it's been my experience that one person can hold a secret.
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