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Updated: May 22, 2025
"He had to go through those search points every time," Kelgarries protested. "Thought nothing could get through those." The colonel brightened. "Maybe he got his snooper films and then couldn't take them off base. Have his quarters been turned out?" Waldour's lips lifted in a grimace of exasperation. "Please, Colonel," he said wearily, "this is not a kindergarten exercise.
A couple of Navy technicians were getting a snooper a thing shaped like a short-tailed tadpole, six feet long by three at the widest, fitted with visible-light and infra-red screen pickups and crammed with detection instruments ready to relieve the combat car over the village. The contact team crowded into the Number One landing craft, which had been fitted out as a temporary headquarters.
"I don't know what we'll do for our supper," he whined. He always whined when he was hungry. "There's that chunk of putty that Farmer Green left in the woodshed," his wife reminded him. "Ugh!" Moses Mouse made a wry face. "We've dined upon that for the last three nights. And I never did like putty, anyhow. I wish that snooping Miss Snooper had to eat it."
"It makes me sad just to think of that fine, old, stale, moldy cheese." "I suppose Mrs. Green gives it all to that horrid Miss Snooper now," said Mrs. Mouse, as she climbed to a shelf and looked at the labels on several jars of jam and jelly that stood there in a row. Moses Mouse watched her hopefully. Being quite plump, he was a bit lazy. And he did not care to scramble up to a shelf for nothing.
In response to Payne's request for information as to the nearest telegraph office he stared stupidly. "Where in the name of alligators you been wadin', boys?" "Devil's Playground." The trader winked. "All right, boys, I ain't askin' no questions. If you say Devil's Playground, all right." He winked again. "I ain't no snooper. Come in." "How far to the nearest telegraph office?" repeated Payne.
When she did so, a dark-complexioned man with black hair and gloomy, desperate looking clothes, came out of the fireplace where he had been concealed and stated: "Aha! I have you in my power at last, Bertram D. Snooper. Gladys Vavasour-Smith shall be mine. I am in the possession of secrets that not a soul in the world suspects.
The old man drew a bottle of medicine from his pocket and gave Pansy a spoonful. She got well immediately. "I was a little late," said John Smothers, "as I waited for a street car." "Press me no more Mr. Snooper," said Gladys Vavasour-Smith. "I can never be yours." "You have led me to believe different, Gladys," said Bertram D. Snooper.
Snooper had no sooner read the document than he uttered a piercing shriek and bit off a large chew of tobacco. "All is lost," he said. "What is that document?" asked Gladys. "Governor Hogg's message?" "It is not as bad as that," said Bertram, "but it deprives me of my entire fortune. But I care not for that, Gladys, since I have won you." "What is it? Speak, I implore you," said Gladys.
The snooper over the village reported excitement in the plaza. Bennet Fayon had taken an airjeep to the other camp immediately after lunch. He was back by 1500, accompanied by Loughran. They carried a cloth-wrapped package into Fayon's dissecting-room. At cocktail time, Paul Meillard had to go and get them. "Sorry," Fayon said, joining the group. "Didn't notice how late it was getting.
"But I hate a snooper worse than I do a rat. You can take them arms down." Bull lowered them cautiously. "You hear me talk?" asked the sheriff. "I hear," said Bull obediently. "I don't like snoopers. Which means that I don't like you none too well. Besides, who in thunder are you? A wanderin' vagrant you look to me, and we got a law agin' vagrants.
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