“Well, yes … but it’s open to the public.”
“Good. I’m figuring we’ll be using it from time to time for exercises and lessons. Could you hire someone to clean up the fountain … and charge it to my bill?”
“Certainly, sir … and, if I might add, that’s very generous of you.”
Bombest was recovering his equilibrium now. Though still a bit shaken by their earlier confrontation, he was pleasantly surprised to find that the Legion commander was quite graceful, not to mention generous, in his triumph. Perhaps the occupation by this dangerous-looking group wouldn’t be so bad after …
“Mister Bombest!”
The manager looked up to find Vincent, the restaurant’s chef, striding across the lobby toward the desk, his face stormy.
“Please, Vincent! Keep your voice down. Now, what seems to be the-“
“There is a … man poking about in my kitchen! Dressed like one of these!” The chef shook an accusing finger at the uniformed Legionnaires who were clustered about in curiosity. “I demand he be removed at once! I cannot work with strangers getting underfoot!”
Bombest felt suddenly trapped. He didn’t want another fight with Phule so soon after their last clash, but he couldn’t afford to offend the chef, either.
“Ah … Mr. Phule. Perhaps you could …”
“Please. I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding,” the commander said, holding up a quieting hand. “I told our mess sergeant that I wanted him to improve our food … but I meant once we had returned to our own base. Let me speak with him and explain …”