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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. |
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