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Show 18 bench to sit innocently beside Karl, and the scissors were back in the dinner pail. "What the hell's goin' on?" Baldy Weitz barked, making Dutch Schwenk stir in his sleep. In a dreamlike motion, Schwenk's hands moved up to stroke his mustache. The left hand found the usual long handlebar, but the right hand fumbled, then frantically patted the bare half of his face as Dutch Schwenk*s eyes flew open. "Gott in Himmel!" Schwenk bellowed. The crew men exploded with laughter, all except Karl, who was frightened over what was happening, and Jame, who kept a virtuous expression. Dutch Schwenk*s face turned purple as his wild eyes turned on Jame. "You..=you!" he roared, and Jame answered, "Who, me? You want me, Dutch?" Schwenk»s fury boiled up like a volcano. He rushed to the billet storage area to grab a three-foot billet, but Jame had turned to enjoy the laughs from his fellow workers, so he didn't see Schwenk run toward him holding the billet like a baseball bat. "Jame! Duck!" Karl screamed, throwing himself out of the way of the maddened Schwenk. Instinct made Jame dive forward, but not far enough. The billet glanced off the crown of his head, knocking him to the floor, senseless. "Jame!" Karl cried, kneeling over him while the crew men wrestled to take the billet away from Schwenk. Jame's face was white as a tombstone; his forehead felt damp and cold. "He's bleeding," Karl shouted to Big John Reilly. "His head's cut." |
