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Show 153 Sid's sids of ths room thsy sounded like a bird pecking on a metal roof. Pocketa, pocketa - ludicrously his mind leapt to Walter Mitty. But in a few momsnts they began to soften, thers came a mellowing, even - at one point, a half-hinted jocularity, "True, sir," said the Major, "that's true," And he settled back again. Now the words from the other side were more gentle, barely audible above the wind. The sharp voice thinned out, the syllables were like a distant tapping, and when, after a while they stopped altogether, both the phone and the Major seemsd to wait. Ths Major starsd at tha window, his brows tangled in the effort at thought. Finally he strstchsd, his chest expanding as if to throw off a load. "Well, sir, you're probably right. Probably right. Helluva stink from ons little fart." He pondered, the swaggerstick tapping idly. "Wall" - his tons was rssoluts now --"maybs I won't. Work, I msan. Go home instead, sit with my feet up and watch the storm. Ought to blow itself out in a while. I don't mind storms, really. Lots of wind at the time, but when they'rs through...." He stood up and disentangled the cord from his arm. "I'll give you a call in a day or two. See how the Engineers are getting along," And as he hung up, the wind gave a triumphant blast. The Major buttoned up his trenchcoat, and without looking at Smead signalled to Sid to follow. On the trip back the jeep was almost blown off the road, but the Major smiled as if bathed in zephyrs. |