“Sir!”
“Run to the fort.” Bush took a few steps away from the gun as he spoke, so as to get out of earshot of the men. “Tell Mr. Hornblower that the gun’s unbushed. It’ll be an hour before we can open fire again. Tell him I’ll fire three shots when the gun’s ready, and ask him to acknowledge them as before.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
At the last moment Bush remembered something.
“Mr. James! Don’t make your report in anyone’s hearing. Don’t let that Spanish fellow, what’shisname, hear about this. Not if you want to be kind to your backside.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Run!”
That would be a very long hot run for Mr. James; Bush watched him go and then turned back to the gun. Berry had selected a file from his roll of tools and was sitting on the rear step of the gun scraping away at the plug. Bush sat on the edge of the platform; the irritation at the disablement of the gun was overlaid by his satisfaction with himself as a diplomat. He was pleased at having remembered to warn James against letting Ortega into the secret. The men were chattering and beginning to skylark about; a few minutes more and they would be scattering all over the peninsula. Bush lifted his head and barked at them.
“Silence, there! Sergeant!”
“Sir?”