The Compleat Bolo

"You ain't heard, Crawford?" Marshal Marlowe asked eagerly. "Lissen: no rumor, neither. Davis got it confirmed with Sector. It's a fact! Durn spodders is here-!"

"I don't understand, Marshal," Crawford interrupted the excited officer's outburst. Then, as the significance of the word "spodders" struck him, he side-stepped the two men and ran the way Dub had gone.

"Looks like Doug took the news none too good, Hick," Kibbe commented, rasping at his shiny scalp with a well-gnawed fingernail.

"Never thought the boy'd go to pieces thataway," Hick agreed, wagging his head sadly. "And him a educated man, too," he added. "Countin' on Doug to help us figger what to do."

Crawford overtook Dub as the latter slid to a halt at the rear corner of the relatively vivid blue museum. The man caught the boy's arm as he attempted to lunge past.

"Hold on, Terrence," Crawford said as gently as his out-of-breath condition allowed. "I'm sorry I didn't listen carefully, but now I think I understand. You say it wounded Mr. Henry and Mick too. Where are they?"

"Yonder in the field out back of Lightner's. Don't know as they're what you call wounded, didn't see no blood. Jest kind of knocked-out, like."

"Come on, Terrence." Crawford urged the boy back toward the street. In silence they crossed the still-deserted avenue, traversed the alley, and emerged into the littered alley, the open field beyond.

"Mr. Crawford!" Dub almost yelped. "I only see old Henry-can't see Mick. He's gone!"

"Mister Henry," Crawford rebuked automatically. "I don't see anyone-only a heap of rubbish, perhaps. Are you sure-"

"Sure I'm sure, Mr. Crawford. Come on." Dub started across the field at a run; Crawford followed, less frantically.

"Slow down, Dub," Crawford called and fell back to a walk. Dub waited, sca

"He was right yonder, just past old Henry," he wailed.

"Easy, Dub." Crawford tried to soothe the clearly terrified lad. "We'll find him." In silence they made their way across to where Henry lay, looking like a heap of discarded rags. The old fellow opened bleary eyes as Crawford knelt beside him.

"Better head for cover," Henry said blurrily. "Durn thing's still around here somewhere. More of 'em, too. Seen 'em hopping around 'mongst the trees yonder; got a better view down here at ground level, see under the foliage. They're busy over there, doin' something. I'm all right, just kind of tingle like a hit elbow all over. Durn spodder zapped me-with a zond-projector, I'd say. Better see to young McClusky." His voice faded off into a snore. Crawford rose briskly.

"He'll be all right," he told Dub. "I wonder what he meant about a zond projector. Probably just raving. But where-?"

"Look!" Dub blurted, pointing. Now Crawford saw motion at the edge of the thicket. He halted, uncertain.

"It's the spodder! It's got Mick!" Dub wailed. "Come on!" He started off at a run, but Crawford caught his arm. "Wait here," he ordered the boy, and ran across to where the limp form of young McClusky was being tugged with difficulty through the thickening bush, pulled by something blue-black, shiny and ovoid, with multiple jointed limbs, one of which aimed what was clearly a weapon. Crawford promptly stepped in and delivered a full-swing kick which sent the pistol-like object flying. Then he stooped to grab Mick's arm, set himself and jerked the boy free of the alien's grip. Mick stirred, muttered something. Crawford dragged him back as the chastened Deng scuttled away.

"I'm sorry I doubted you, Terrence," Crawford said to Dub as the boy met him, looking up searchingly to catch his eye.

"Never knew you was a hero and all, Mr. Crawford," Dub said solemnly.

"Nonsense," Crawford said shortly. "I simply did what anyone would do."

"I seen you kick his gun," Dub said firmly, now looking fearfully at Mick's limp form.

" 'Saw,' " Crawford corrected absently.

"Is he kilt, Mr. Crawford?" Dub quavered.

"Hell, no," Mick spoke up.

"Don't curse, Gerald," Crawford said, "But are you all right?"

As Crawford and Dub watched anxiously, Mick rolled over and twisted to look back over his shoulder toward them.

"Oh, hi, Mr. Crawford," he said strongly. "Glad it's you. Durn thing hit me and run off. Guess I was out of it for a while. Woke up, jest now, when it was pulling at me; seen 'em over in the scrub yonder. Must be a couple dozen of 'em. Better go back and warn the mayor and all. Must be getting ready to 'tack the town." The boy lay back and breathed hard. Crawford examined him swiftly, saw no signs of injury. "Can you move your legs?" he asked.

"Sure. Guess so," Mick answered promptly, kicking his legs in demonstration. "Just feel kinder sick-like." He paused to gag.

"Apparently its orders are to take prisoners, Crawford said. "I understand Mr. Davis has received confirmation that the Deng have, in fact, carried out a hostile landing near the town."

Mick nodded. "Yeah, Mr. Crawford; me and Dub heard."

"Dub and I," Crawford corrected. "How did you hear?"

"We were there," Mick told him. "Heard Davis read off the message he got on the SWIFT."

"You should have come to me at once," Crawford rebuked him mildly. "But never mind that. See if you can stand." He helped the boy get to his feet; he rose awkwardly, but quickly enough. Mick took a few steps. "I'm O.K.," he stated. "What we going to do now?"

"I'd better reco

"Better get down low so's to see under the branches," Mick suggested. He crouched and peered toward the woods. "Yep," he said, "I can still see 'em, only a couple of 'em moving around now, but they got some kinda thing set up over there. Might be a gun to shoot at the town."

Crawford went to one knee and stared hard, caught a flicker of movement, then made out a tripod arrangement perched among the tree trunks.

"They're up to something," he agreed, rising.

"All right, let's go back and report," he ordered. Mick and Dub went to Henry and in a moment the old fellow was on his feet, wobbly and cursing steadily, but able to walk. Crawford joined them and all four headed back the way they had come.

"You boys have done well," Crawford told them. "Now we'll have to inform Mayor Kibbe of this, see what can be done."

After turning Henry over to old Doctor Grundwall at his cramped office over the hardware store, Crawford shepherded the lads along to the feed store, where the mayor met them at the door, Marshal Marlowe behind him.

"Mr. Crawford, sir," Kibbe said solemnly, with a disapproving glance at the two untidy urchins, "I'd value your opinions, as an educated man, sir, as to how we should best deal with this, ah, curious situation which has done arose here so sudden, taking us all by surprise-"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Mayor," Crawford cut in on the windy rhetoric, suppressing the impulse to correct the mangled grammar and syntax. "Mr. Henry, the boys and I have just observed what I judge to be signs of imminent hostile action to be directed against the town," he told the two officials. "What appears to be a small scouting force has taken up a position in the woods west of town. They seem to be preparing some sort of apparatus-a weapon, I think we can assume-"

"What are you grownups going to do when them spodders comes?" Dub inquired.

" 'Those spodders'," Terrence," Crawford corrected, " 'Come'."

"Hold on, Doug," Hick Marlowe cut in. "Boy's right. We gotta do something, and in a hurry. Durn spodders is setting up ca

"It may well be a party of harmless picknickers," Kibbe said quickly. "After all, what evidence have we? The testimony of two children and the town derelict?"