There was another shot.
Kells said: “What the hell’s that all about?” He jerked his head toward the sound, immediately wished he hadn’t.
“That’s him — he’s all right. Wait’ll I tell you...” Borg shifted his position a little, went on: “I went on up the path an’ I’ll be damned if that navigator didn’t catch up with me, an’ he had the dirtiest-looking shotgun I ever saw. When we got to the house, he said. ‘You go in the front way an’ I’ll go in the back,’ so I waited for him to get around to the back — an’ about that time there was two shots inside.”
Kells lay down again on his stomach. Borg twisted around lay beside him.
“I went in and you was doing a cartwheel downstairs with three or four guys on your neck. There was another guy there an’ he made a pass at me and I shot him right between the eyes...”
Borg leaned close to Kells, tapped his own head between the eyes with a stubby forefinger.
Kells said: “Hurry up.”
“I’m hurrying. They was tearing hell out of you an’ I was trying to pick one of ’em off when the navigator came in the back way and started waving that shotgun around. He yelled so much they had to see him. Then another guy came out on the balcony and I took a shot at him, but I guess I missed — he ducked back in the upstairs room.”
Borg sighed, shook his head. There was another shot below, then two more, close together.
“Well — I got off to one side to give the navigator a chance,” Borg went on, “but he had a better idea — he came over on my side and we jockeyed around till I could get a hold of you, and then we backed out the front — me dragging you, and the navigator telling the boys what a swell lot of hash they’d make if he let go with that meat grinder. When we got outside I drug you a little to one side—”