“Look!” says I to Mark.
He looked and shook his head and grinned sort of admiring.
“I knew that Man Who Will Come was a s-s-smart one,” says he. “Couldn’t have invented b-better armor. Slingshots ain’t any good now.”
“Might hit their fingers,” says I.
“Waste of time tryin’,” says he. “Lances are the thing. Don’t let ’em p-plant their ladders against the cliff. As soon as a man gets near with a l-ladder give it a shove and topple it over.” He stopped a minute. “Don’t see anythin’ of The Man or the other Jap, do you?”
“No,” says I.
“Well,” says he, “we’ll have to trust to the guards.”
The men were raising their ladders. The shorter one got in reach first and Mark gave it a shove that sent it and the man who had it over on to the ground with a good sound flop. That didn’t stop the two with the big ladder. They used different tactics. Off they got a ways and then pointed the ladder at the railing like a battering-ram, and came on with a run. We had as much chance of stopping it as a hippopotamus has of climbing a cherry-tree.
Bang! went the ladder against the railing, and as soon as it struck the men jumped on it to hold it down. We pushed and pried, but it only wabbled. It was too heavy for us.
“S-sideways,” says Mark. “Shove sideways.”