“I’ll see about some more soft drinks,” he said. “Come help me fish up the bottles.”
Sally smiled at the other two. She was already inspecting the lunch basket.
“We still have some sandwiches,” she said hospitably, “and some cake.”
Haney came forward awkwardly. Mike advanced toward her with something of truculence. Joe knew what was in his mind. If Sally treated him like a freak.... But Joe knew with deep satisfaction that she wouldn’t. He went down to the water’s edge.
“What’s up, Chief?” he asked in a low tone.
“Mike hadda hunch,” rumbled the Chief. “Somebody tried to smash the stuff you brought. They did. But we started gettin’ set to mend it. So what would they do? Polish us off. If they were set to atom-dust the whole Shed an’ everybody in it, they wouldn’t stop at four more murders.”
Joe fished for a pop bottle.
“Mike said something like that back at the Shed,” he observed.
“Yeah. But you were the one who figured things out. You’d be first target. Haney and Mike and me—we’d be hard to knock off in a crowd in Bootstrap. But you and her headed off by y’selves. Mike figured you mightn’t be safe. So we checked.”
Joe brought up one bottle and then another.