No gang of men ever moved boxes as fast as that crew did. And then one of them stripped the tarpaulin off the top of the heap and let in the sunlight on us. We crouched close to the wall of boxes and put off being discovered as long as we could. The number of cases between us and trouble was getting mighty small.
“No scheme yet?” says I.
“Nary scheme,” says he, “but it’ll come. It’s got to come.”
“Just get the first end of it and give me a hold of it,” says I. “The way I feel I could pull a scheme right out of anybody tail first. That’s how bad I need one.”
Then a man took a box off the top of the inner row, and another one took another box and another took another box.
“You’ve got about six seconds now,” says I.
“One second will be enough—if I get it,” says he.
“I wonder how it’ll feel?” says I.
“What?”
“Why,” says I, “whatever it is that’s going to happen to us.”