The leader shot a startled glance at Gary and then at his companion. He hefted the metal box in his hand. “Not a chance,” he declared after a moment. “They'd see him.”
“Underwater, Harry, underwater!” Sully danced around in his eagerness to please and tapped the box quickly. “That's air in the box — you know, that condensed air stuff, what do they call it? The kid was gonna swim underwater, Harry.”
Harry lost his balance and sat down on the ground. The corporal stood quietly, watching him, seeing the idea take hold in the man's dulled imagination. Surprise mixed with a growing greed appeared on his face as he realized what the mask could mean.
“I'll be damned,” he said slowly. “Now why didn't I think of that!”
“That's mine,” Gary spoke up quickly to drive the point home. “You can't take—”
“I'll take any damn thing I want, see kid? Ask these guys who's boss around here.” He got to his feet and advanced on Gary to ram the shotgun in his middle. “Lied to me, didn't you? Figured on swimming across and didn't want me to know it, didn't you? I gotta notion to pull the trigger.”
Gary said hastily, “I'll swap you for it, Harry. That's a good shotgun you've got there. We can make a deal.”
“We ain't making no deal, kid. I keep the gun and the mask.” He stepped back a pace. “Sully, come here.”
The little man was at his side. “Yeah, Harry?”
“Put that thing on.”