“We have free speech here, don’t we? What I want to know is: How long does
this go on? I’m getting tired of competing with coyotes for the privilege of eating
jackrabbits. You know I’ve fought with the best of them. I’ve gone on the raids.
Well, haven’t I? Haven’t I? You can’t call me yellow.”
“You’ve been on some raids,” Morgan conceded.
“All right. I’d go along indefinitely if I could see some sensible plan.
That’s why I ask, ‘How long does this go on?’ When do we move? Next spring? Next
year?”
Morgan gestured impatiently. “How do I know? It may be next spring; it may
be ten years. The Poles waited three hundred years.”
“That tears it,” Benz said slowly. “I was hoping you could offer some
reasonable plan. Wait and arm ourselves-that’s a pretty picture! Homemade hand
grenades against atom bombs! Why don’t you quit
kidding yourselves? We’re licked!” He hitched at his belt. “The rest of you can do
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as you please-I’m through.”
Morgan shrugged. “If a man won’t fight, I can’t make him. You’re assigned
noncombatant duties. Turn in your gun. Report to Cathleen.”
“You don’t get me, Ed. I’m through.”
“You don’t get me, Joe. You don’t resign from an Underground.”
“There’s no risk. I’ll leave quietly, and let myself be registered as a
straggler. It doesn’t mean anything to the rest of you. I’ll keep my mouth shut-that
goes without saying.”
Morgan took a long breath, then answered, “Joe, I’ve learned by bitter
experience not to trust statements set off by ‘naturally,’ ‘of course,’ or ‘that
goes without saying.'”
“Oh, so you don’t trust me?”
“As Captain of this Company I can’t afford to. Unless you can get the
Company to recall me from office, my rulings stand. You’re under arrest. Hand over
your gun.
Benz glanced around, at blank, unfriendly faces. He reached for his waist,
“With your left hand, Joe!”
Instead of complying, Benz drew suddenly, backed away. “Keep clear!” he said
shrilly. “I don’t want to hurt anybody-but keep clear!”
Morgan was unarmed. There might have been a knife or two in the assembly,
but most of them had come directly from the dinner table. It was not their custom to
be armed inside the mine.
Young Morrie was armed with a rifle, having come from lookout duty. He did
not have room to bring it into play, but Morgan could see that he intended to try.
So could Benz.
“Stop it, Morrie!” Morgan assumed obedience and turned instantly to the
others. “Let him go. Nobody move. Get going, Joe.”
“That’s better.” Benz backed down the main tunnel, toward the main entrance,
weed and drift choked for
years. Its unused condition was their principal camouflage, but it could be
negotiated.
He backed away into the gloom, still covering them. The tunnel curved;
shortly he was concealed by the bend.
Dad Carter went scurrying in the other direction as soon as Benz no longer
covered them. He reappeared at once, carrying something. “Heads down!” he shouted,
as he passed through them and took out after Benz.
“Dad!” shouted Morgan. But Carter was gone.
Seconds later a concussion tore at their ears and noses.
Morgan picked himself up and brushed at his clothes, saying in annoyed
tones, “I never did like explosives in cramped quarters. Cleve-Art. Go check on it.
Move!”
“Right, boss!” They were gone.
“The rest of you get ready to carry out withdrawal plan-full plan, with
provisions and supplies. Jerry, don’t disconnect either the receiver or
theline-of-sight till I give the word. Margie will help you. Cathleen, get ready to
serve anything that can’t be carried. We’ll have one big meal. ‘The condemned ate
hearty.'”
“Just a moment, Captain.” McCracken touched his sleeve. “I had better get a
message into Barclay.”
“Soon as the boys report. You better get back into town.”
“I wonder. Benz knows me. I think I’m here to stay.”
“Hm.. . well, you know best. How about your family?”
McCracken shrugged. “They can’t be worse off than they would be if I’m
picked up. I’d like to have them warned and then arrangements made for them to
rejoin me if possible.”
“We’ll do it. You’ll have to give me a new contact.”