There was nothing to do but wait. Johnny pushed the girl toward the
cabin and saw her scramble under the lowest branches and join the
others unconcernedly, tagging the boy Josef, and, then running off into
the open--where she could see the hillside--with Josef running after.
She did not seem to be watching the hill, while she was apparently
absorbed in dodging Josef, but Johnny gathered from her gestures that
the man was still coming and that he was making for the cabin. He was
wondering what she meant by suddenly sinking to the ground in shrill
laughter, when he heard a step behind him. He whirled, startled, his
hand jerking back toward the gun he wore.
"I approve your watchfulness, but you happened to be watching in the
wrong direction," said Cliff, brushing dirt from his hunting clothes.
"Well, they are getting warm, old man. They have eliminated Riverside
as a probable hang-out for the mystery plane, and--" He waved a hand
significantly while he stood his shotgun against the bole of the tree.
"Some one saw us land in this valley," he added. "Luckily they do not
suspect Mateo yet. I saw him going down the flat and sent him on to
tell the patrol a lot they already knew. He saw the plane come down,
but has not been able to find the exact spot. He thinks it took the
air again. His ninos told him of a big bird flying east. Great boy,
Mateo. Great kids. Did they see me coming?"
"Sure they did. Rosa's eagle eye spotted a rock or two rolling down
and came and told me."
"Good girl, Rosa. The car's over in another valley, parked under a
tree very neatly and permanently and in plain sight. Its owner is off
hunting somewhere. By its number plates they will never know it. Good
old car."
"You seem tickled to think they're after you," Johnny observed, rolling
a cigarette by way of manifesting complete unconcern. "What's the next
move?"
"Get me across without letting them see where we come from. Can you
fly at night?"
"Sure, I can fly at night. Don't the Germans fly at night all over
London? I won't swear I'll light easy, though."
"There'll be a moon," said Cliff. "I've got to get over, and I've got
to light, and I've got to get back again. There are no if's this time;
it's _got_ to be done."
"A plane chased us, day before yesterday," Johnny informed him, fanning
the smoke from before his face and squinting one eye while he studied
Cliff. "It was a long way off, and I got down before it was close
enough to see just where I lit. It came back yesterday and scouted
around, flying above five thousand feet up. To-day I saw two of them
sailing around, but they didn't fly over this way. They were over
behind this hill, and high. We'd better do our flying at night,
old-timer."
"You can dodge them. You've got to dodge them," said Cliff.
"If I fly," Johnny qualified dryly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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