Words that Planter understood!
"You fool," said the girl with the crossbow. "You scurvy fool."
Disbro, barely able to stir for shock and weariness, climbed only a few hand's breadths out of danger before he must stop and wheeze for breath. At last he could make himself heard:
"Max! You pighead, help me!"
"Uhh," came the grunt of assent from above, as the big fellow slid down in turn. He slipped a thick arm around Disbro, hoisting the tall, slender body as if it were a bundle of old clothes, and slid it across a shoulder like the jut of a crag. Then Max scaled the rope once again, to the safe top of the nosed-over rocket ship.
Disbro found his own feet, and shakily wiped his clear-cut face, still pale from exertion and terror. "That was close."
"Say," ventured Max, "Mr. Planter, he's gone."
Disbro looked around. The mud expanse around them was stirred up as if by boiling struggles, but there was no sign of Planter or the thing with the tentacles.
"That thing got him," decided Disbro, but Max shook his heavy head.