CHAPTER XX
The hammering down below kept on steadily for an hour or so. Then there was silence for quite a while, I expect while The Man’s army was getting rested and recovering its grit. It was beginning to grow dusk before we saw a single Japanese.
Mark held a council of war. It wasn’t much of a council, if that word means people talking together and offering one another advice. Mark did most of the talking and all of the advising. It wasn’t because he wouldn’t accept advice. No, sir. He wasn’t that sort of fellow at all. He was always glad to listen and to change his own plan if somebody offered a better one, but right now he was the only one that had any plan. Mostly he was. The rest of us fellows were pretty good at doing things we were told, and maybe we were up to the average on brains, but Mark was a little out of the ordinary there. Anyhow, he had a different kind of brain. It was the kind that can’t help scheming and figuring. So the council of war consisted mainly in his telling us what to do.
“We can’t hold this l-l-line of defenses,” says he. “It won’t be long before we have to make a strategic retirement to the next floor. That’s our last stronghold, and it’s the s-s-strongest. We can hold out there till—”
“Till it rains, I hope,” says I. “Then we’ll get a drink.”
“Is that still on your mind, Tallow? Well, the first minute I have to spare I’ll get you a drink.”
“Is that a promise?” says I.
“Yes,” says he.
That settled it. If Mark Tidd said he’d get water, then water would be got. I was satisfied.
“How you goin’ to get it?” Plunk says.