'Come in and sit down,' she said. 'I'm only playing a plough. Dad's
gone to Chicago to--Ah! Then it was _your_ call I heard just now!'
She had caught sight of Arnott's Board uniform, leaped to the switch,
and turned it full on.
We were checked, gasping, waist-deep in current this time, three yards
from the verandah.
'We only want to know what's the matter with Illinois,' said De Forest
placidly.
'Then hadn't you better go to Chicago and find out?' she answered.
'There's nothing wrong here. We own ourselves.'
'How can we go anywhere if you won't loose us?' De Forest went on, while
Arnott scowled. Admirals of Fleets are still quite human when their
dignity is touched.
'Stop a minute--you don't know how funny you look!' She put her hands on
her hips and laughed mercilessly.
'Don't worry about that,' said Arnott, and whistled. A voice answered
from the _Victor Pirolo_ in the meadow.
'Only a single-fuse ground-circuit!' Arnott called. 'Sort it out gently,
please.'
We heard the ping of a breaking lamp; a fuse blew out somewhere in the
verandah roof, frightening a nestful of birds. The ground-circuit was
open. We stooped and rubbed our tingling ankles.
'How rude--how very rude of you!' the maiden cried.
''Sorry, but we haven't time to look funny,' said Arnott. 'We've got to
go to Chicago; and if I were you, young lady, I'd go into the cellars
for the next two hours, and take mother with me.'
Off he strode, with us at his heels, muttering indignantly, till the
humour of the thing struck and doubled him up with laughter at the foot
of the gang-way ladder.
'The Board hasn't shown what you might call a fat spark on this
occasion,' said De Forest, wiping his eyes. 'I hope I didn't look as big
a fool as you did, Arnott! Hullo! What on earth is that? Dad coming home
from Chicago?'
There was a rattle and a rush, and a five-plough cultivator, blades in
air like so many teeth, trundled itself at us round the edge of the
timber, fuming and sparking furiously.
'Jump!' said Arnott, as we bundled ourselves through the none-too-wide
door. 'Never mind about shutting it. Up!'
The _Victor Pirolo_ lifted like a bubble, and the vicious machine shot
just underneath us, clawing high as it passed.
'There's a nice little spit-kitten for you!' said Arnott, dusting his
knees. 'We ask her a civil question. First she circuits us and then she
plays a cultivator at us!'
'And then we fly,' said Dragomiroff. 'If I were forty years more young,
I would go back and kiss her. Ho! Ho!'
'I,' said Pirolo, 'would smack her! My pet ship has been chased by a
dirty plough; a--how do you say?--agricultural implement.'
'Oh, that is Illinois all over,' said De Forest. 'They don't content
themselves with talking about privacy. They arrange to have it. And now,
where's your alleged fleet, Arnott? We must assert ourselves against
this wench.'
Arnott pointed to the black heavens.
'Waiting on--up there,' said he. 'Shall I give them the whole
installation, sir?'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account