Number one was lying in profound slumber when Alumnus Pike
turned to greet number two.
The second soldier, having witnessed the feat of pugilism, doubled his
fists and extended them awkwardly, coming with a rush. Mr. Pike suddenly
squatted and leaned forward, balancing on his finger-tips, until number
two was about to fall upon him and crush him, and then he arose with
that rigid right shoulder aimed as a catapult. There was a sound as when
the air-brake is disconnected, and number two curled over limply on the
ground and made faces in an effort to resume breathing.
Mr. Pike picked up his magazine and put it under his coat. He buttoned
the coat, smiled in a pale, but placid manner at Kalora, who was still
immovable with terror, and then he proceeded to vindicate his "prep
school" training. He ran over to the canopy tent, under which the
refreshments had been served, pulled out one of the poles and, pointing
it ahead of him, ran straight for the wall.
Kalora, watching him, regarded this as a wholly insane proceeding. Was
he going to attempt to poke a hole through a wall three feet thick?
Just as he seemed ready to flatten himself against the stones, he
dropped the end of the pole to the ground and shot upward like a rocket.
Pages:
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48