Jackson's Arm
: The Iron HeelLittle did I dream the fateful part Jackson's arm was to play in my
life. Jackson himself did not impress me when I hunted him out. I found
him in a crazy, ramshackle* house down near the bay on the edge of the
marsh. Pools of stagnant water stood around the house, their surfaces
covered with a green and putrid-looking scum, while the stench that
arose from them was intolerable.
* An adjective descri
in which great numbers of the working people found shelter
in those days. They invariably paid rent, and, considering
the value of such houses, enormous rent, to the landlords.
I found Jackson the meek and lowly man he had been described. He was
making some sort of rattan-work, and he toiled on stolidly while I
talked with him. But in spite of his meekness and lowliness, I fancied I
caught the first note of a nascent bitterness in him when he said:
"They might a-given me a job as watchman,* anyway."
* In those days thievery was incredibly prevalent.
Everybody stole property from everybody else. The lords of
society stole legally or else legalized their stealing,
while the poorer classes stole illegally. Nothing was safe
unless guarded. Enormous numbers of men were employed as
watchmen to protect property. The houses of the well-to-do
were a combination of safe deposit vault and fortress. The
appropriation of the personal belongings of others by our
own children of to-day is looked upon as a rudimentary
survival of the theft-characteristic that in those early
times was universal.
I got little out of him. He struck me as stupid, and yet the deftness
with which he worked with his one hand seemed to belie his stupidity.
This suggested an idea to me.
"How did you happen to get your arm caught in the machine?" I asked.
He looked at me in a slow and pondering way, and shook his head. "I
don't know. It just happened."
"Carelessness?" I prompted.
"No," he answered, "I ain't for callin' it that. I was workin' overtime,
an' I guess I was tired out some. I worked seventeen years in them
mills, an' I've took notice that most of the accidents happens just
before whistle-blow.* I'm willin' to bet that more accidents happens
in the hour before whistle-blow than in all the rest of the day. A man
ain't so quick after workin' steady for hours. I've seen too many of 'em
cut up an' gouged an' chawed not to know."
* The laborers were called to work and dismissed by savage,
screaming, nerve-racking steam-whistles.
"Many of them?" I queried.
"Hundreds an' hundreds, an' children, too."
With the exception of the terrible details, Jackson's story of his
accident was the same as that I had already heard. When I asked him if
he had broken some rule of working the machinery, he shook his head.
"I chucked off the belt with my right hand," he said, "an' made a reach
for the flint with my left. I didn't stop to see if the belt was off. I
thought my right hand had done it--only it didn't. I reached quick, and
the belt wasn't all the way off. And then my arm was chewed off."
"It must have been painful," I said sympathetically.
"The crunchin' of the bones wasn't nice," was his answer.
His mind was rather hazy concerning the damage suit. Only one thing was
clear to him, and that was that he had not got any damages. He had a
feeling that the testimony of the foremen and the superintendent had
brought about the adverse decision of the court. Their testimony, as he
put it, "wasn't what it ought to have ben." And to them I resolved to
go.
One thing was plain, Jackson's situation was wretched. His wife was in
ill health, and he was unable to earn, by his rattan-work and peddling,
sufficient food for the family. He was back in his rent, and the oldest
boy, a lad of eleven, had started to work in the mills.
"They might a-given me that watchman's job," were his last words as I
went away.
By the time I had seen the lawyer who had handled Jackson's case, and
the two foremen and the superintendent at the mills who had testified, I
began to feel that there was something after all in Ernest's contention.
He was a weak and inefficient-looking man, the lawyer, and at sight of
him I did not wonder that Jackson's case had been lost. My first thought
was that it had served Jackson right for getting such a lawyer. But
the next moment two of Ernest's statements came flashing into my
consciousness: "The company employs very efficient lawyers" and "Colonel
Ingram is a shrewd lawyer." I did some rapid thinking. It dawned upon me
that of course the company could afford finer legal talent than could a
workingman like Jackson. But this was merely a minor detail. There was
some very good reason, I was sure, why Jackson's case had gone against
him.
"Why did you lose the case?" I asked.
The lawyer was perplexed and worried for a moment, and I found it in my
heart to pity the wretched little creature. Then he began to whine. I
do believe his whine was congenital. He was a man beaten at birth. He
whined about the testimony. The witnesses had given only the evidence
that helped the other side. Not one word could he get out of them that
would have helped Jackson. They knew which side their bread was buttered
on. Jackson was a fool. He had been brow-beaten and confused by Colonel
Ingram. Colonel Ingram was brilliant at cross-examination. He had made
Jackson answer damaging questions.
"How could his answers be damaging if he had the right on his side?" I
demanded.
"What's right got to do with it?" he demanded back. "You see all those
books." He moved his hand over the array of volumes on the walls of his
tiny office. "All my reading and studying of them has taught me that
law is one thing and right is another thing. Ask any lawyer. You go to
Sunday-school to learn what is right. But you go to those books to learn
. . . law."
"Do you mean to tell me that Jackson had the right on his side and yet
was beaten?" I queried tentatively. "Do you mean to tell me that there
is no justice in Judge Caldwell's court?"
The little lawyer glared at me a moment, and then the belligerence faded
out of his face.
"I hadn't a fair chance," he began whining again. "They made a fool out
of Jackson and out of me, too. What chance had I? Colonel Ingram is
a great lawyer. If he wasn't great, would he have charge of the law
business of the Sierra Mills, of the Erston Land Syndicate, of the
Berkeley Consolidated, of the Oakland, San Leandro, and Pleasanton
Electric? He's a corporation lawyer, and corporation lawyers are not
paid for being fools.* What do you think the Sierra Mills alone give him
twenty thousand dollars a year for? Because he's worth twenty thousand
dollars a year to them, that's what for. I'm not worth that much. If
I was, I wouldn't be on the outside, starving and taking cases like
Jackson's. What do you think I'd have got if I'd won Jackson's case?"
* The function of the corporation lawyer was to serve, by
corrupt methods, the money-grabbing propensities of the
corporations. It is on record that Theodore Roosevelt, at
that time President of the United States, said in 1905 A.D.,
in his address at Harvard Commencement: "We all know that,
as things actually are, many of the most influential and
most highly remunerated members of the Bar in every centre
of wealth, make it their special task to work out bold and
ingenious schemes by which their wealthy clients, individual
or corporate, can evade the laws which were made to
regulate, in the interests of the public, the uses of great
wealth."
"You'd have robbed him, most probably," I answered.
"Of course I would," he cried angrily. "I've got to live, haven't I?"*
* A typical illustration of the internecine strife that
permeated all society. Men preyed upon one another like
ravening wolves. The big wolves ate the little wolves, and
in the social pack Jackson was one of the least of the
little wolves.
"He has a wife and children," I chided.
"So have I a wife and children," he retorted. "And there's not a soul in
this world except myself that cares whether they starve or not."
His face suddenly softened, and he opened his watch and showed me a
small photograph of a woman and two little girls pasted inside the case.
"There they are. Look at them. We've had a hard time, a hard time. I
had hoped to send them away to the country if I'd won Jackson's case.
They're not healthy here, but I can't afford to send them away."
When I started to leave, he dropped back into his whine.
"I hadn't the ghost of a chance. Colonel Ingram and Judge Caldwell
are pretty friendly. I'm not saying that if I'd got the right kind of
testimony out of their witnesses on cross-examination, that friendship
would have decided the case. And yet I must say that Judge Caldwell
did a whole lot to prevent my getting that very testimony. Why, Judge
Caldwell and Colonel Ingram belong to the same lodge and the same club.
They live in the same neighborhood--one I can't afford. And their wives
are always in and out of each other's houses. They're always having
whist parties and such things back and forth."
"And yet you think Jackson had the right of it?" I asked, pausing for
the moment on the threshold.
"I don't think; I know it," was his answer. "And at first I thought
he had some show, too. But I didn't tell my wife. I didn't want to
disappoint her. She had her heart set on a trip to the country hard
enough as it was."
"Why did you not call attention to the fact that Jackson was trying to
save the machinery from being injured?" I asked Peter Donnelly, one of
the foremen who had testified at the trial.
He pondered a long time before replying. Then he cast an anxious look
about him and said:
"Because I've a good wife an' three of the sweetest children ye ever
laid eyes on, that's why."
"I do not understand," I said.
"In other words, because it wouldn't a-ben healthy," he answered.
"You mean--" I began.
But he interrupted passionately.
"I mean what I said. It's long years I've worked in the mills. I began
as a little lad on the spindles. I worked up ever since. It's by hard
work I got to my present exalted position. I'm a foreman, if you please.
An' I doubt me if there's a man in the mills that'd put out a hand to
drag me from drownin'. I used to belong to the union. But I've stayed
by the company through two strikes. They called me 'scab.' There's not
a man among 'em to-day to take a drink with me if I asked him. D'ye see
the scars on me head where I was struck with flying bricks? There ain't
a child at the spindles but what would curse me name. Me only friend is
the company. It's not me duty, but me bread an' butter an' the life of
me children to stand by the mills. That's why."
"Was Jackson to blame?" I asked.
"He should a-got the damages. He was a good worker an' never made
trouble."
"Then you were not at liberty to tell the whole truth, as you had sworn
to do?"
He shook his head.
"The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?" I said
solemnly.
Again his face became impassioned, and he lifted it, not to me, but to
heaven.
"I'd let me soul an' body burn in everlastin' hell for them children of
mine," was his answer.
Henry Dallas, the superintendent, was a vulpine-faced creature who
regarded me insolently and refused to talk. Not a word could I get from
him concerning the trial and his testimony. But with the other foreman I
had better luck. James Smith was a hard-faced man, and my heart sank
as I encountered him. He, too, gave me the impression that he was not a
free agent, as we talked I began to see that he was mentally superior
to the average of his kind. He agreed with Peter Donnelly that Jackson
should have got damages, and he went farther and called the action
heartless and cold-blooded that had turned the worker adrift after he
had been made helpless by the accident. Also, he explained that there
were many accidents in the mills, and that the company's policy was to
fight to the bitter end all consequent damage suits.
"It means hundreds of thousands a year to the stockholders," he said;
and as he spoke I remembered the last dividend that had been paid my
father, and the pretty gown for me and the books for him that had been
bought out of that dividend. I remembered Ernest's charge that my
gown was stained with blood, and my flesh began to crawl underneath my
garments.
"When you testified at the trial, you didn't point out that Jackson
received his accident through trying to save the machinery from damage?"
I said.
"No, I did not," was the answer, and his mouth set bitterly. "I
testified to the effect that Jackson injured himself by neglect and
carelessness, and that the company was not in any way to blame or
liable."
"Was it carelessness?" I asked.
"Call it that, or anything you want to call it. The fact is, a man gets
tired after he's been working for hours."
I was becoming interested in the man. He certainly was of a superior
kind.
"You are better educated than most workingmen," I said.
"I went through high school," he replied. "I worked my way through doing
janitor-work. I wanted to go through the university. But my father died,
and I came to work in the mills.
"I wanted to become a naturalist," he explained shyly, as though
confessing a weakness. "I love animals. But I came to work in the mills.
When I was promoted to foreman I got married, then the family came, and
. . . well, I wasn't my own boss any more."
"What do you mean by that?" I asked.
"I was explaining why I testified at the trial the way I did--why I
followed instructions."
"Whose instructions?"
"Colonel Ingram. He outlined the evidence I was to give."
"And it lost Jackson's case for him."
He nodded, and the blood began to rise darkly in his face.
"And Jackson had a wife and two children dependent on him."
"I know," he said quietly, though his face was growing darker.
"Tell me," I went on, "was it easy to make yourself over from what you
were, say in high school, to the man you must have become to do such a
thing at the trial?"
The suddenness of his outburst startled and frightened me. He ripped*
out a savage oath, and clenched his fist as though about to strike me.
* It is interesting to note the virilities of language that
were common speech in that day, as indicative of the life,
'red of claw and fang,' that was then lived. Reference is
here made, of course, not to the oath of Smith, but to the
verb ripped used by Avis Everhard.
"I beg your pardon," he said the next moment. "No, it was not easy. And
now I guess you can go away. You've got all you wanted out of me. But
let me tell you this before you go. It won't do you any good to repeat
anything I've said. I'll deny it, and there are no witnesses. I'll deny
every word of it; and if I have to, I'll do it under oath on the witness
stand."
After my interview with Smith I went to my father's office in
the Chemistry Building and there encountered Ernest. It was quite
unexpected, but he met me with his bold eyes and firm hand-clasp, and
with that curious blend of his awkwardness and ease. It was as though
our last stormy meeting was forgotten; but I was not in the mood to have
it forgotten.
"I have been looking up Jackson's case," I said abruptly.
He was all interested attention, and waited for me to go on, though I
could see in his eyes the certitude that my convictions had been shaken.
"He seems to have been badly treated," I confessed. "I--I--think some of
his blood is dripping from our roof-beams."
"Of course," he answered. "If Jackson and all his fellows were treated
mercifully, the dividends would not be so large."
"I shall never be able to take pleasure in pretty gowns again," I added.
I felt humble and contrite, and was aware of a sweet feeling that
Ernest was a sort of father confessor. Then, as ever after, his strength
appealed to me. It seemed to radiate a promise of peace and protection.
"Nor will you be able to take pleasure in sackcloth," he said gravely.
"There are the jute mills, you know, and the same thing goes on there.
It goes on everywhere. Our boasted civilization is based upon blood,
soaked in blood, and neither you nor I nor any of us can escape the
scarlet stain. The men you talked with--who were they?"
I told him all that had taken place.
"And not one of them was a free agent," he said. "They were all tied to
the merciless industrial machine. And the pathos of it and the tragedy
is that they are tied by their heartstrings. Their children--always
the young life that it is their instinct to protect. This instinct is
stronger than any ethic they possess. My father! He lied, he stole, he
did all sorts of dishonorable things to put bread into my mouth and into
the mouths of my brothers and sisters. He was a slave to the industrial
machine, and it stamped his life out, worked him to death."
"But you," I interjected. "You are surely a free agent."
"Not wholly," he replied. "I am not tied by my heartstrings. I am often
thankful that I have no children, and I dearly love children. Yet if I
married I should not dare to have any."
"That surely is bad doctrine," I cried.
"I know it is," he said sadly. "But it is expedient doctrine. I am a
revolutionist, and it is a perilous vocation."
I laughed incredulously.
"If I tried to enter your father's house at night to steal his dividends
from the Sierra Mills, what would he do?"
"He sleeps with a revolver on the stand by the bed," I answered. "He
would most probably shoot you."
"And if I and a few others should lead a million and a half of men*
into the houses of all the well-to-do, there would be a great deal of
shooting, wouldn't there?"
* This reference is to the socialist vote cast in the United
States in 1910. The rise of this vote clearly indicates the
swift growth of the party of revolution. Its voting
strength in the United States in 1888 was 2068; in 1902,
127,713; in 1904, 435,040; in 1908, 1,108,427; and in 1910,
1,688,211.
"Yes, but you are not doing that," I objected.
"It is precisely what I am doing. And we intend to take, not the mere
wealth in the houses, but all the sources of that wealth, all the
mines, and railroads, and factories, and banks, and stores. That is
the revolution. It is truly perilous. There will be more shooting, I am
afraid, than even I dream of. But as I was saying, no one to-day is
a free agent. We are all caught up in the wheels and cogs of the
industrial machine. You found that you were, and that the men you talked
with were. Talk with more of them. Go and see Colonel Ingram. Look
up the reporters that kept Jackson's case out of the papers, and the
editors that run the papers. You will find them all slaves of the
machine."
A little later in our conversation I asked him a simple little
question about the liability of workingmen to accidents, and received a
statistical lecture in return.
"It is all in the books," he said. "The figures have been gathered, and
it has been proved conclusively that accidents rarely occur in the
first hours of the morning work, but that they increase rapidly in the
succeeding hours as the workers grow tired and slower in both their
muscular and mental processes.
"Why, do you know that your father has three times as many chances for
safety of life and limb than has a working-man? He has. The insurance*
companies know. They will charge him four dollars and twenty cents a
year on a thousand-dollar accident policy, and for the same policy they
will charge a laborer fifteen dollars."
* In the terrible wolf-struggle of those centuries, no man
was permanently safe, no matter how much wealth he amassed.
Out of fear for the welfare of their families, men devised
the scheme of insurance. To us, in this intelligent age,
such a device is laughably absurd and primitive. But in
that age insurance was a very serious matter. The amusing
part of it is that the funds of the insurance companies were
frequently plundered and wasted by the very officials who
were intrusted with the management of them.
"And you?" I asked; and in the moment of asking I was aware of a
solicitude that was something more than slight.
"Oh, as a revolutionist, I have about eight chances to the workingman's
one of being injured or killed," he answered carelessly. "The insurance
companies charge the highly trained chemists that handle explosives
eight times what they charge the workingmen. I don't think they'd insure
me at all. Why did you ask?"
My eyes fluttered, and I could feel the blood warm in my face. It
was not that he had caught me in my solicitude, but that I had caught
myself, and in his presence.
Just then my father came in and began making preparations to depart with
me. Ernest returned some books he had borrowed, and went away first. But
just as he was going, he turned and said:
"Oh, by the way, while you are ruining your own peace of mind and I
am ruining the Bishop's, you'd better look up Mrs. Wickson and
Mrs. Pertonwaithe. Their husbands, you know, are the two principal
stockholders in the Mills. Like all the rest of humanity, those two
women are tied to the machine, but they are so tied that they sit on top
of it."
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Next morning the headlines of the newspapers blazed out the news of the meeting at the Queen's Hall, and the world read the words of Sarakoff. Strange to say, most of the papers seemed inclined to view the situation seriously. "If," said one ... Jesse Pringle 2039
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When her grandfather had disappeared, Jewel placed Anna Belle on the seat beside her, where she toed in, in a state of the utmost complacence. "I have my work to do, Anna Belle," she said, "and this will be a good time, so don't disturb me till t... Jewel's Correspondence
While Jewel still stood turning over in her mind what she had heard, charming strains of music began coming up through the hall. Cousin Eloise had gone to the piano. "I almost which I hadn't made her tell me," thought the child, "for how can I he... John Castellan's Threat
Lennard's first feelings after the receipt of Mr Parmenter's cablegram, and the casting of the vast mass of metal which was to form the body of the great cannon, were those of doubt and hesitation, mingled, possibly, with that sense of semi-irresp... John Insists On Going Back Again-a Strange But Amusing Incident Occurs
When we rose the next day the moon was a considerable distance away from us, but not so far off as might at first be imagined if one only considered the speed at which we were travelling; for, although moving at our full speed, the earth was ... John Jones's Dollar
Take a board with 64 squares on it. Put a grain of wheat on the first square--two on the second--four on the third. Keep doubling in this manner and you will find there isn't enough wheat in the world to fill the sixty-fourth squ... Joiwind
IT WAS DENSE NIGHT when Maskull awoke from his profound sleep. A wind was blowing against him, gentle but wall-like, such as he had never experienced on earth. He remained sprawling on the ground, as he was unable to lift his body because of its int... Junior Achievement
"What would you think," I asked Marjorie over supper, "if I should undertake to lead a junior achievement group this summer?" She pondered it while she went to the kitchen to bring in the dessert. It was dried apricot pie, and very tasty, I migh... Jupiter And Trouble!
The huge ship circled the planet twice, with the instruments adjusted to detect the metal of the domes. They spread over many miles of the surface, yet were like grains of sand on the enormous globe. When the gauges quivered over a section, hidd... Jupiter Equilateral
For a moment, Major Briarton just stared at him. Then he was on his feet, shaking his head as he came around the desk. "Tom, use your head," he said. "It's as much of a shock to me as it is to you, but you can't afford to jump to false conclusions... Jupiter Somewhat Close
Except as to the time the comet would take to revolve round the sun, it must be confessed that all the professor's calculations had comparatively little interest for anyone but himself, and he was consequently left very much to pursue his studies ... Kar Komak The Bowman
As Carthoris moved through the forest toward the distant cliffs with Thuvia's hand still tight pressed in his, he wondered a little at the girl's continued silence, yet the contact of her cool palm against his was so pleasant that he feared to bre... Kidnaped!
I searched about the spot carefully. At last I was rewarded by the discovery of her javelin, a few yards from the bush that had concealed us from the charging thag--her javelin and the indications of a struggle revealed by the trampled vegetation a... Kulan Tith's Sacrifice
The morning of the second day of her incarceration in the east tower of the palace of Astok, Prince of Dusar, found Thuvia of Ptarth waiting in dull apathy the coming of the assassin. She had exhausted every possibility of escape, going over and... L5000 To Detain The Ship
Brande was asleep when I entered his cabin. His writing-table was covered with scraps of paper on which he had been scribbling. My name was on every scrap, preceded or followed by an unfinished sentence, thus: "Marcel is thinking-- When I was ill,... Lamentations Over Again But Standing Out Here Will Never Do
Out of the way, old Hakkabut, I say! out of the way!" and, without more ado, he thrust the astonished Jew on one side and opened the door of the cabin. Servadac, however, declined to enter until he had taken the pains to explain to the owner of the... Larry And The Frog-men
Long had been her tale in the telling, and too long, perhaps, have I been in the repeating--but not every day are the mists rolled away to reveal undreamed secrets of earth-youth. And I have set it down here, adding nothing, taking nothing from it; ... Larry Farewell!
"My heart, Larry--" It was the handmaiden's murmur. "My heart feels like a bird that is flying from a nest of sorrow." We were pacing down the length of the bridge, guards of the Akka beside us, others following with those companies of ladala that... Larry O'keefe
Pressing back the questions I longed to ask, I introduced myself. Oddly enough, I found that he knew me, or rather my work. He had bought, it appeared, my volume upon the peculiar vegetation whose habitat is disintegrating lava rock and volcanic ash... Larry's Defiance
A clamour arose from all the chambers; stilled in an instant by a motion of Yolara's hand. She stood silent, regarding O'Keefe with something other now than blind wrath; something half regretful, half beseeching. But the Irishman's control was gone.... Last Days
It was near the end of January, 1913, that the changed attitude of the Oligarchy toward the favored unions was made public. The newspapers published information of an unprecedented rise in wages and shortening of hours for the railroad employees, ... Last Words To My Readers
As I have decided to stay here upon Mars, and have just taken leave of my two dear old friends, I will now address a few last words to those who may read this record of our trip to Mars, and then seal up the packet ready for John to take with... Launching The Raft
On the morning of the next day, to my great surprise, I awoke completely restored. I thought a bath would be delightful after my long illness and sufferings. So, soon after rising, I went and plunged into the waters of this new Mediterranean. The ... Lease To Doomsday
By LEE ARCHER The twins were a rare team indeed. They wanted to build a printing plant on a garbage dump. When Muldoon asked them why, their answer was entirely logical: "Because we live here." It was the lack of sense in th... Leehallfae
At midnight, when Teargeld was in the south, throwing his shadow straight toward the sea and making everything nearly as bright as day, he saw a great tree floating in the water, not far out. It was thirty feet out of the water, upright, and alive, ... Lennard's Ultimatum
Within five minutes they were seated in the big Napier, with ninety horse-power under them, and a possibility of eighty miles an hour before them. A white flag was fastened to a little flagstaff on the left-hand side. They put on their goggles and... Leonora
I found a note in the hall from Sarakoff asking me to come round to the Pyramid Restaurant at eight o'clock to meet a friend of his. It was a crisp clear evening, and I decided to walk. There were two problems on my mind. One was the outlook of Sa... Leonora's Voice
"My theory," said the policeman, "is that collectin'--and by that I mean all sorts of collection, including that of money--comes from a craving to 'ave something what other people 'aven't got. It comes from a kind o' pride which is foolish. Take a... Lesson
Odeon woke, a scream caught in his throat, pain knifing through his head. When it eased, he found himself gasping, staring around in the dark. "Who--" *Do you always ask foolish questions, priest? You belong to the one you call Cortin; y... Letter Of The Law
The place was dark and damp, and smelled like moldy leaves. Meyerhoff followed the huge, bear-like Altairian guard down the slippery flagstones of the corridor, sniffing the dead, musty air with distaste. He drew his carefully tailored Terran-st... Life In Lo-tan The Magnificent
San-Lan's attitude toward me underwent a change. He did not seek my company as he had done before, and so those long discussions and mental duels in which we pitted our philosophies against each other came to an end. I was, I suspected, an unpleas... Liola
AFTER brief consultation it was deemed insecure for us to return to Goliba's house, as search would undoubtedly be made for us there if any had detected his presence with us in the great chasm. Therefore, our guide, taking one of the lamps, led us... Liola's Discovery
WITH a sudden bound I left Liola's side and sprang upon the leader of our enemies, clutching him fiercely by the throat and shouting for assistance. No one was, however, near, and for a few moments we struggled desperately. He was unarmed, and I, ... Littlejohn 2065
The helicopter landed on the roof, and the attendants wheeled it over to one side. They propped the ladder up, and Littlejohn descended slowly, panting. They had a coasterchair waiting and he sank into it, grateful for the rest. Hardy fellows, ...