”Uh-oh. I was afraid of something like this. Where are they now? Ah …there. Okay. Jimmy, Bill, Alice, we need capture nets and tranks, stat. We let those things keep feeding, we won’t have any pterosaurs or Ichthyomises to study. And maybe a tourist will get hurt.”
That last had clearly been an afterthought. Kit hid a grin. The tourist who’d lost her falcon began demanding reimbursement. Someone called Bull Morgan to mediate.
”C’mon, Malcolm. Looks like the fun’s over. We have a trip down time to plan.”
Margo, not surprisingly, hadn’t even heard the ruckus. She was still flitting from rack to rack, cooing and all but drooling on the clothes. Even Connie was laughing at her. Kit shook his head. An unlimited expense account in heaven …
”Well, let’s see what our prodigy’s chosen, shall we?”
”Don’t I get an opinion?” Margo demanded. The three faces ranged against her grimaced simultaneously. If Margo hadn’t been so flaming angry, it would’ve been comical. “Well, don’t I? I’m going to be the one wearing these”
She held out the ridiculous embroidered smock; the baggy pants with their hideous flap front that fell open if a buttons popped loose-never mind the rags she was supposed to tie around her knees to hold the pants off the ground-then kicked at the scuffed, wide-toed leather boots. The shapeless felt hat was so pitiful she couldn’t even bring herself to look at it
”This is only one of the outfits you’ll be wearing,” Malcolm Moore told her, sounding infuriatingly patient.
”But they’re ugly!”