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Updated: June 21, 2025
I guess you're right, we'd better get a couple more make it four, then we'll have enough to chase them half our lives. We'd better load up on grub and X-plosive ammunition, too." While Crane and Shiro carried additional provisions and boxes of cartridges into the "Skylark," Seaton once more mounted his motorcycle and sped across the city to the brass foundry.
"No, an investigation is indicated." "Well, that puts me out of a job. What to do? Don't want to study, like you. Can't crochet, like Peg. Darned if I'll sit cross-legged on a pillow and eat candy, like that Titian blonde over there on the floor. I know what I'll build me a mechanical educator and teach Shiro to talk English instead of that mess of language he indulges in. How'd that be, Mart?"
Whenever Shiro happened to look into their kitchen they at once kicked him or threw something at him, sometimes even wounding him. One day Shiro was heard barking for a long time in the field at the back of his master's house. The old man, thinking that perhaps some birds were attacking the corn, hurried out to see what was the matter.
Brookings told him briefly of the failures to secure the solution and the plans, of the death of the three men sent to silence Shiro, and of all the other developments. DuQuesne listened, his face impassive. "Well," he said as Brookings ceased. "I thought you would bull it, but not quite so badly. But there's no use whining now.
When the old man and his wife saw this, they understood that it was a reward to them from Shiro for their faithful love to him. They tasted the cakes and found them nicer than any other food. So from this time they never troubled about food, for they lived upon the cakes with which the mortar never ceased to supply them.
At this dreadful news Shiro's master wept many sad and bitter tears. Great indeed, was his woful surprise, but he was too good and gentle to reproach his bad neighbor. Learning that Shiro was buried under the yenoki tree in the field, he asked the old man to give him the tree, in remembrance of his poor dog Shiro.
At the end of the calculated time they saw the lights of a large city beneath them, and Crane's fingers clenched upon Seaton's arm as he pointed downward. There were the landing-lights of Crane Field, seven peculiarly-arranged searchlights throwing their mighty beams upward into the night. "Nine weeks, Dick," he said, unsteadily, "and Shiro would have kept them burning nine years if necessary."
"Yes, we've got her so full of plunder that there's hardly room left for quarters. You ain't figuring on taking anybody but Shiro along, are you?" "No. I suppose there is no real necessity for taking even him, but he wants very much to go, and may prove himself useful." "I'll say he'll be useful.
Perhaps you had better build it, Dick, after all." "I believe that he would like it, Dick. He is trying hard to learn, and the continuous use of a dictionary is undoubtedly a nuisance to him." "I'll ask him. Shiro!" "You have call, sir?" Shiro entered the room from his galley, with his unfailing bow. "Yes. How'd you like to learn to talk English like Crane there does without taking lessons?"
"We have eight rooms, four below and four above," leading the way to a narrow, steep steel stairway and down into a very narrow hall, from either side of which two doors opened. "This is my room, the adjoining one is Mart's. Shiro sleeps across the hall. The rest of the rooms are for our guests on future trips."
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