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Show Automatically the men had gravitated toward Sid, but ha stood without comment. In a moment Sergeant Koontz spoke up. "If we had some poles, sir, we could keep clear." "Poles." Sid's eyes settled on Koontz. "Poles." "How about" - the Sergeant reached out - "the railings?" "Good. Get an axa." A word from Furukawa located one, and the men set to work. The railiings were of wood, and fiercely weathered, but they were stout, and might last long enough to guide past the cliffs to a narrow beach beyond. ^Otiulcajwo wog\*mtC'»MuJkiatefey-,. the gnarled fingers lithe. In a moment he wrenched the valve off, wedged a cap of metal inside. Now it was a matter of refitting. * "He'll never make it," said Sid. "Move everybody to the other side; keep tha aisle clear." Quietly, speaking casually, the order was passed along. Evelyn Murakami carried the little girl; Louise took the boy's hand and, as if but an extension of tha picnic, sat down in the lea of the cabin to begin another story. Dusk had deepened; the chasms in the cliffs were slits of black, the twisted lava glinting with spray. Now the slapping of the water was drowned in the roar of the waves. "How's Furukawa doing?" "Almost finished, but not quite." "Get ready. Two men to a pole. The rocks give way to the west -- try to ease past." |