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The Northern Bridge, Steel and Etcetera still needed estimating, so
Hank labored straight on through till the last day, lending his
individual if unwanted talents. Thus it was that on the Saturday
afternoon he drew his final paycheck he had still not cleared out his
desk drawers and lockers for the next incumbent.
He told me so at dinner. I asked, "Well, what's the program, Hankus?
After we feed we grab a choo-choo?"
But he just stared at me. "We, Jim? But you wasn't laid off."
"Birds of a feather," I told him, "flop together. I go where you go."
He shook his head.
"Oh, no, Jim. Thanks a lot, but you got to stick. This ain't no time
f'r individjuls to fuss an' argue. We got a war to win, an' wherever a
man's needed he's got to stay."
"But how about you, Hank?"
"I'll find somethin' else to do. When we're through eatin' I got to
go back to the plant an' pick up whut belongs to me, then I'll mosey
along."
I sighed.
"Well, all right, chum. If that's the way it is "
That, he assured me, was the way it was. So we went back to the plant
about 8:30 p.m. And that's where the final insult was added to injury.
For after we had passed the gate a slim, forbidding figure stepped from
the shadows to halt us with a challenge.
"Just a moment! Who goes there?"
I started, then I grinned impudently. It was friend Grimper, in person,
and not an effigy. I said, "Just a brace of Nazi spies, pal. Don't
shoot till you see the yellow down our backs."
The government man edged forward austerely.
"And what are you two doing back this time of night? Blakeson, you have
no right to be here after six o'clock, and your friend has no right
here at any hour!"
I said, "Why, you two-for-a-nickel imitation of a G-man "
But Hank, unruffled as ever, said calmly, "Easy does it, Jim. Why, Mr.
Grimper, I jest come back to gather up the stuff in my locker an' desk.
It won't take me long."
Grimper said sourly, "We-e-ell, all right. But I'll have to go along
with you. We can't afford to give strangers the run of the mill
nowadays. Constant vigilance is our only defense against saboteurs and
espionage agents, and there are valuable military stores within these
gates."
"Strangers!" I spat disgustedly. "You've got a hell of a nerve,
Grimper. Hank Cleaver volunteered his talents to this concern before
you ever knew it existed "
"Services," said Grimper coldly, "which ended today. And I should not
be surprised, Mr. Blakeson, if yours were to be terminated soon. Well,
come along."
So we entered the plant. And of course it was black as a whale's belly
in there, but do you think Dopey Joe would let us turn on any lights?
Oh, no! He had ideas about that, too. He was fuller of ideas than
a Thanksgiving turkey is of chestnuts. He commanded, "You will use a
flashlight, please. One never knows what prying eyes may be upon us."
"There are a couple of eyes," I glared, "I'd like to pry with doubled
pinkies. Hurry up, Hank. Get your things and let's scram out of here.
There's a bad odor around here, and it's not oil fumes."
Hank emptied his desk drawers, and we picked our way down darkened
corridors, through the machine-shop and turning room, toward the
lockers. We had but one more room to cross: the drafting-room, wherein
were stored all the blueprints and testing-models. We were halfway
across this, our tiny flashlight beam a dim beacon before our stumbling
feet, when
Out of the gloom, suddenly, terrifyingly, a voice!
"Halten Sie sich! Not a move! Otto get them!"
Don't ever ask me about the next few minutes. I was there in body only.
My mind was as blank as a Fourth of July cartridge. I remember seeing
figures two, three, or twenty darting toward us; I remember yelling,
ducking, and punching with one and the same motion; I remember hearing
guttural voices snarling commands that ended mostly in "geworden sein"
so it must have been German. I remember feeling, with satisfaction,
a spurt of sticky warmth deluge my knuckles as I hit the jackpot on
something spongy that howled.