United States or Heard Island and McDonald Islands ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Rick squeezed Scotty's arm, then with a powerful thrust of his flippers he shot out into light, right into the stomach of a frogman! He thrust with his knife, and a hand gripped his wrist and twisted. Scotty shot from the hole in the wreck and turned, fins flailing. His spear gun belched carbon dioxide, and the deadly spear ripped into the leg of one frogman.
Winston replied quickly, "No reason why not. I'll check with my host, but I'm sure it's all right, so you can plan to come with us." Rick's eyes met Scotty's. He shrugged. He was glad in one way that his sister could go, because he always hated to have her unhappy about being left behind. On the other hand, Barby was unpredictable.
He pulled down the reserve lever of his tank and touched Scotty's arm. He hooted twice for the ascent. Back in the Water Witch, they connected their tanks to the compressor, put the regulators on charged tanks, then tested their underwater flashlights. Rick said, "Do you realize I haven't taken a single picture?" "Why not take some on the next dive?" "Good idea."
He said, "We should have brought a picnic lunch." Scotty chuckled, but didn't reply. Rick said, "Suppose we can't get out?" "We will. Dr. Miller will be hunting for us sooner or later. He couldn't miss the mine, especially with the boards off the entrance." "Then all we need is patience and a tight belt." "That's it." The boys fell silent. Rick was cheered by Scotty's estimate of the situation.
"You see " said the man who was telling them about it, "you see, he may get the niggers easy and bring them in at once. Or they may clear out and make him chase them for days and days. He'll get them in the end, though, you bet. Old Scotty's not the one to be beaten by niggers." The boys sat down outside the trooper's house on a little hill and looked over the desolate landscape.
On one occasion, they had thrown off their coats and taken the weaker side in a fight among strangers, and after gaining a hard-earned victory, turned and found that the men they were helping had deserted early, and not only that, but had stolen their coats and made off with them! But to return to Scotty's visit to the minister.
They were a perfect contrast to "Scotty's" dogs, who had been taught to step into place, each as his name was called, standing quietly until all were in position, and the traces were snapped to the tow-line; and then, as the signal was given, to dart ahead with the ease and precision of machinery started by electricity.
In the meantime, Scotty was standing in the cookhouse, laughing his sides out at the driver's plight, and he had forgotten to notice that the mule was backing further and further into the room. Just then Mr. Mule got his foot tangled up in one of the dixies that were lying on the floor, and in attempting to kick it off, his foot missed Scotty's head by about six inches.
Presently Rick felt Scotty's fingers and moved his own, seeking the ropes around his pal's wrists. He probed, trying to find the key to the knots. Finally, his right forefinger touched a free end, and he followed it into a twist of rope. His first two fingers could just reach the twist, and he set to work on it, moving the rope back and forth, trying to pull on it. Suddenly it gave.
"You've won a great race," exclaimed the Woman as she came forward with the Big Man, and grasped "Scotty's" hand warmly; "a great race, and against heavy odds." But "Scotty," looking down on Baldy with gratitude and pride, replied simply: "No, the credit all belongs to good old Baldy here; it is his race, not mine."
Word Of The Day