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Updated: May 14, 2025
Or have you delegated the handling of us guards to some lesser man?" "No, I handle 'em myself. 'If you want a job well done, do it yourself', you know. I'll take you out and show you around. Are you all settled and comfortable?" "Oh, yes, sir. I have a very nice room, number 17, and am all unpacked. Hunting your office I ran into the messhall, and Cookie told me about meal hours.
They broke through the final wall of foliage and Hanlon saw a large cleared space ahead that must have been roughly a half-mile across. There were quite a number of buildings, mostly windowless, and he decided they were storehouses. "There's the messhall," his new-found friend pointed.
One evening he was working thus with the dog when Gorton, his head-wound still bandaged, came into the messhall. Seeing Hanlon with the terrier, his heavy lip curled. "So th' fair-haired boy's also a animal trainer, eh?" "That he is," Cookie said from the doorway leading into the kitchen. "And good, too! He's got Brutus doing things I never knew a dog could do." Gorton sneered again.
Then the window was softly opened, and one by one the boys descended the fire-escape, which ran past that window. The last one out closed the window, having arranged it so it could be readily opened from the outside. Behind the messhall they sat down on the ground and pulled on their shoes. It was a cool, starry night, "I rather fancy I know where we are bound," said Frank. "Where?" asked Bart.
"The Khan and some Security Police heads would satisfy them." Reif's face was as frigid as the Earthman's. He said, "I am afraid not, Joseph Chessman. You are Number One. It is your statue that is in every commune square. It is your portrait that hangs in every distribution center, every messhall, every schoolroom. You are the Number One as you have so often pointed out to us.
But I know I locked all the gates very carefully, as always." One of the engineers spoke up. "I saw him doing it, Pete. I also saw one of the other guards leave the messhall for a few minutes just before we sat down to eat. When he came back I saw him grinning mysteriously as though very self-satisfied about something." "Who was that?" "Sorry, I name no names." "I tell," big Jenssen spoke up.
On the day of the game the midshipmen talked eagerly, and mostly of football, through dinner in the great messhall of the brigade. "Infants, eh!" called Joyce from the next table. "That shows you didn't see the visiting eleven." "Why? Are they of fair size?" asked Farley. "It took two 'buses to bring the regular eleven, besides the subs and all the howlers," retorted Joyce.
"Man, are you going to get plenty of work-outs, in this heat," he apostrophised the shower, thankfully. Dressing again, he went out to locate Peter Philander, his new boss. He stopped at the messhall, and there he found the cook, a jolly, roly-poly sort of man. He introduced himself and they chatted for a few minutes.
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