Meillard, Dorver, Gofredo and a few others got out of the
other vehicle, and unloaded presents. Gofredo did all the talking.
The Svants couldn't understand him, but they liked it. They also
liked the presents, which included a dozen empty half-gallon rum
demijohns, tarpaulins, and a lot of assorted knickknacks. The
pipeline went through.
He and Sonny got the forge set up. There was no fuel for it.
A party of Marines had gone out to the woods to the east to cut
wood; when they got back, they'd burn some charcoal in the pit
that had been dug beside the camp. Until then, he and Sonny were
drawing plans for a wooden wheel with a metal tire when Lillian
came out of the headquarters hut with a clipboard under her arm.
She motioned to him.
"Come on over," he told her. "You can talk in front of Sonny;
he won't mind. He can't hear."
"Can't hear?" she echoed. "You mean--?"
"That's right. Sonny's stone deaf. He didn't even hear that rifle
going off. The only one of this gang that has brains enough to pour
sand out of a boot with directions on the bottom of the heel, and
he's a total linguistic loss.
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