“If I was goin’ to attack,” says I, “I’d send three men and maybe four to come up ladders to the front balcony. While they were bangin’ around there, attractin’ attention, I’d have one man sneak up into one of those west windows, and come creeping across behind us to cut down the stairs.”
“G-good for you, Tallow,” says Mark. “How would you guard against it?”
“Why,” says I, after scratching my head a minute, “I guess I’d fasten the windows so nobody could get in.”
“F-f-first class,” says Mark. “Now if we could only think of some way to f-fasten ’em.”
“Why,” says I, “they’ve got fasteners!”
“Yes,” says he, “but how about the glass! They could b-burst it and reach in to unlock ’em.”
That was a fact. We couldn’t nail them, because we didn’t have any nails, and anyhow, it wouldn’t have done much good, for a man who had his mind set on it could have smashed through, anyhow.
“There ain’t but one way,” says Mark, “to keep the Japanese out of those windows, and that’s to w-w-watch ’em. All the time we’ve got to keep track of f-five Japanese. Somebody’s got to keep his eye on the windows, somebody’s got to watch the s-stairs, and the rest of us have got to be ready for an attack here in front.”
“Good!” says I. “Post your guards.”
“Ever read of cliff-dwellers?” says Mark.