Utterly filthy, and ferocious, the polywog in silence snapped great chunks from the dead giant frog.
"Hello. Who are you?"
Maget turned, having forgotten the amenities of life in the excitement. Professor Gurlone and his son, still clad in their black suits, but with their helmets off, were standing beside him, clutching their guns and lights.
The big Portuguese, Espinosa, appeared, and Durkin was beside him.
"Why," said Maget, between gasps, "we just happened to be out exploring, and we saw your camp. We were on our way in when we heard the noises and came to investigate."
"I see," said old Gurlone. "What made you head in this direction, and where's your outfit?"
"Oh, we cached most of it back there," said Maget. "My partner's hurt his foot, so he can't walk well. Isn't that so, Durkin?"
"Yeh," growled Durkin. "I got a sore foot, all right."
