Rather startlingly, Nasal-voice laughed.
"They sure do!" he agreed. "That's a good one! Yes, sir, they sure do!"
"Flauval's nice, don't you think?" continued Peer conversationally, picking up courage.
"Depends a lot on how you look at it," Nasal-voice said dreamily. "She's a real pretty thing anyhow, that Flauval! Luck of the devil she's had, too. But it's got to run out sometime."
There was another silence. Then Peer remarked:
"Boy, he set that launch down nice! Right quick spang on top of the—what the big guy said it was. On the Mound."
"We've got a good pilot," Nasal-voice agreed. "Flauval's going to get her surprise in just a minute now!"
"And there they come out of the launch," continued Peer. "One, two, three, four. All four of them. Marching right down into the Mound!"
"You've got sharp eyes," Nasal-voice acknowledged. "But that's funny!" he continued worriedly. "One of them was to stay with the guns."
"And now look at the launch!" cried Peer in a high, bright voice. "Getting pulled right into the Mound!"