But there was nothing to do but plod ahead.
A stratoship passed in the distance. He could hear the thunderclap, but he could not see it; he could only hope that it was not scanning for him. A few minutes later, while searching all around, he spotted behind them a dot that he hoped was an eagle.
Very soon he was forced to admit that it was a single human in a flight harness. “Stop, Lummox! Pull over to the wall. You’re a landslide.”
“A landslide, Johnnie?”
“Shut up and do it!” Lummox shut up and did it. John Thomas slid down and hid behind Lummox’s head, making himself small. He waited for the flier to pass over.
The flier did not pass, but swooped in a familiar shoot-the-works style and came in for a landing. Johnnie sighed with relief as Betty Sorenson landed on the spot he had just vacated. She called out, “Howdy, Lummie,” then turned to Johnnie, put her hands on her hips and said, “Well! Aren’t you a pretty sight! Running off without telling me!”
“Uh, I meant to, Slugger, I really did. But I didn’t have a chance to. . . I’m sorry.”
She dropped her fierce expression and smiled. “Never mind. I think better of you than I have in some time. At least you did something. Johnnie, I was afraid you were just a big lummox yourself-pushed around by anybody.”
John Thomas decided not to argue, being too pleased to see her to take offense. “Uh. . . well, anyway, how did you manage to spot us?”
“Huh? Knothead, you’ve been gone two nights and you are still only a short flight from town. . . how could you expect not to be spotted?”
“Yes, but how did you know where to look?”
She shrugged. “The old rule: I thought like a mule and went where the mule would. I knew you would be along this road, so I started out at barely ‘can-see’ and swooped along it. And if you don’t want to be caught in the next few minutes we had better boost out of here and get under cover. Come on! Lummie old boy, start your engines.”
She put down a hand and Johnnie swung aboard; the procession started up. “I’ve been trying to get off the road,” Johnnie explained nervously, “but we haven’t come to a spot.”
“I see. Well, hold your breath, ’cause around this bend is Adam-and-Eve Falls and we can get off the road just above them.”
“Oh, is that where we are?”
“Yes.” Betty leaned forward in a futile attempt to see around a rock shoulder ahead. So doing, she caught her first glimpse of Lummox’s arms. She grabbed John Thomas. “Johnnie! There’s a boa constrictor on Lummie!”
“What? Don’t be silly. That’s just his right arm.”
“His what? Johnnie, you’re ill.”
“Level off and quit grabbing me. I said ‘arms’-those tumor things were arms.”
“The tumors. . . were arms?” She sighed. “I got up too early and I haven’t had breakfast. I can’t take shocks like that. All right, tell him to stop. I got to see this.”
“How about getting under cover?”
“Oh. Yes, you’re right You’re usually right, Johnnie-two or three weeks late.”
“Don’t strain yourself. There are the falls.” They passed the falls; the floor of the canyon thereby came up to meet them. John Thomas took the first chance to get off the road, a spot like their bivouac of the day before. He felt much better to have Lummox back under thick trees again. While he prepared breakfast, Betty examined Lummox’s brand-new arms.
“Lummox,” she said reprovingly, “you didn’t tell mama about this.”
“You didn’t ask me,” he objected.
“Excuses, always excuses. Well, what can you do with them?”
“I can throw rocks. Johnnie, is it all right?”
“No!” John Thomas said hastily. “Betty, how do you want your coffee?”
“Just bare-footed,” she answered absently and went on inspecting the limbs. There was a notion hovering in her mind about them, but it would not light . which annoyed her, as she expected her mind to work for her with the humming precision of a calculator and no nonsense, please! Oh, well. . . breakfast first.