"It came off in the brook."
Sam stopped to search but it was useless; the water looked like ink in the faint light. "No good," he decided. "We could waste the whole night. You're due for sore feet--sorry. Better throw away your other shoe."
It did not slow them until they reached the far ridge beyond which lay Charityville and the ship. Soon after they started up Ellie cut her right foot on a rock. She did her best, setting her jaw and not complaining, but it handicapped them. There was a hint of dawn in the air by the time they reached the top. Max started to lead them down the arroyo that he and Ellie had come up so many year-long days ago. Sam stopped him. "Let me get this straight. This isn't the draw that faces the ship, is it?"
"No, that one is just north of this." Max reconstructed in his mind how it had looked from the ship and compared it with his memory of the photomap taken as the ship landed. "Actually a shoulder just beyond the next draw faces the ship."
"I thought so. This is the one Chips led me up, but I want us to stay in the trees as long as possible. It'll be light by the time we'd be down to the flat."
"Does it matter? There have never been any centaurs seen in the valley the ship is in."
"You mean you never saw any. You've been away, old son. We're in danger now--and in worse danger the closer we get to the ship. Keep your voice down-- and lead us to that shoulder that sticks out toward the ship. If you can."
Max could, though it meant going over strange terrain and keeping his bearings from his memory of a small-scale map. It involved "crossing the furrows," too, instead of following a dry water course--which led to impasses such as thirty-foot drops that had to be gone painfully around. Sam grew edgy as the light increased and urged them to greater speed and greater silence even as Ellie's increasingly crippled condition made his demands harder to meet.
"I really am sorry," he whispered after she had to slide and scramble down a rock slope, checking herself with bare and bloody feet. "But it's better to get there on stumps than to let them catch you."
"I know." Her face contorted but she made no sound. It was daylight by the time Max led them out on the shoulder. Silently he indicated the ship, a half mile away. They were about level with its top.
"Down this way, I think," he said quietly to Sam.
"No."
"Huh?"
"Chilluns, it's Uncle Sam's opinion that we had better lie doggo in those bushes, holding still and letting the beggar flies bite us, until after sundown."
Max eyed the thousand yard gap. "We could run for it."
"And four legs run faster than two legs. We've learned that lately."
The bushes selected by Sam grew out to the edge of the shoulder. He crawled through them until he reached a place where he could spy the valley below while still hidden. Ellie and Max wriggled after him. The ground dropped off sharply just beyond them. The ship faced them, to their left and nearer was Charityville.
"Get comfortable," Sam ordered, "and we'll take turns keeping guard. Sleep if you can, this will be a long watch."
Max tried to shift Mr. Chips around so that he might lie flat. A little head poked out of his collar. "Good morning," the spider puppy said gravely. "Breakfast?"
"No breakfast, hon," Ellie told her. "Sam, is it all right to let her out?"
"I guess so. But keep her quiet." Sam was studying the plain below. Max did the same.
"Sam? Why don't we head for the village? It's closer."
"Nobody there. Abandoned."
"What? Look, Sam, can't you tell us now what's happened?"
Sam did not take his eyes off the plain. "Okay. But hold it down to whispers. What do you want to know?"
That was a hard one--Max wanted to know everything. "What happened to the village?"
"Gave it up. Too dangerous."
"Huh? Anybody caught?"
"Not permanently. Daigler had a gun. But then the fun began. We thought that all they had were those throwing snakes and that we had scared them off. But they've got lots more than that. Things that burrow underground, for example. That's why the village had to be abandoned."
"Anybody hurt?"
"Well ... the newlyweds were already in residence. Becky Weberbauer is a widow."
Ellie gasped and Sam whispered sharply to be quiet. Max mulled it over before saying, "Sam, I don't see why, after they got my message, they didn't ..."
"What message?"
Max explained. Sam shook his head. "The pooch got back all right. By then we knew you were missing and were searching for you--armed, fortunately. But there was no message."
"Huh? How did you find us?"
"Chips led me, I told you. But that was all. Somebody stuffed her into her old cage and that's where I found her yesterday. I stopped to pet her, knowing you were gone, Miss Eldreth--and found the poor little thing nearly out of her mind. I finally got it through my head that she knew where you two were. So ..." He shrugged.
"Oh. But I can't see," Max whispered, "why you risked it alone. You already knew they were dangerous; you should have had every man in the ship with you, armed."
Sam shook his head. "And we would have lost every man. A sneak was possible; the other wasn't. And we had to get you back."
"Thanks. I don't know how to say it, Sam. Anyhow, thanks."
"Yes," added Ellie, "and stop calling me 'Miss Eldreth.' I'm Ellie to my friends."
"Okay, Ellie. How are the feet?"
"I'll live."
"Good." He turned his head to Max. "But I didn't say we _wanted_ to get you back, I said we _had_ to. You, Max. No offense, Ellie."
"Huh? Why me?"
"Well ..." Sam seemed reluctant. "You'll get the details when you get back. But it looks like you'll be needed if they take the ship off. You're the only astrogator left."
"Huh? What happened to Simes?"
"_Quiet!_ He's dead."
"For Pete's sake." Max decided that, little as he liked Simes, death at the hands of the centaurs he would not have wished on any human; he said so.
"Oh, no, it wasn't that way. You see, when Captain Blaine died ..."
"The Captain, _too?_"
"Yes."
"I knew he was sick, I didn't know he was that sick."
"Well, call it a broken heart. Or honorable hara-kiri. Or an accident. I found an empty box for sleeping pills when I helped pack his things. Maybe he took them, or maybe your pal Simes slipped them in his tea. The Surgeon certified 'natural causes' and that's how it was logged. What is a natural cause when a man can't bear to live any longer?"
Ellie said softly, "He was a good man."
"Yes," agreed Sam. "Too good, maybe."
"But how about Simes?"
"Well, now, that was another matter. Simes seemed to feel that he was crown prince, but the First wouldn't stand for it. Something about some films the Chief Computerman had. Anyhow, he tried to get tough with Walther and I sort of broke his neck. There wasn't time to be gentle," Sam added hastily. "Simes pulled a gun."
"Sam! You aren't in trouble?"
"None, except here and now. If we--quiet, kids!" He peered more sharply through the bushes. "Not a sound, not a movement," he whispered. "It may miss us."
A hobgoblln was drifting down from north, paralleling the ridge above and out from it, as if it were scouting the high land. Max said in Sam's ear, "Hadn't we better scrunch back?"
"Too late. Just hold still."
The balloon drifted abreast of them, stopped, then moved slowly toward them. Max saw that Sam had his gun out. He held his fire until the hobgoblin hovered above them. The shot burned needles and branches but it brought down the thing.
"Sam! There's another one!"
"Where?" Sam looked where Max pointed. The second hobgoblin apparently had been covering the first, higher and farther out. Even as they watched it veered away and gained altitude.
"Get it, Sam!"
Sam stood up. "Too late. Too far and too late. Well, kids, away we go. No need to keep quiet. Sit down and slide, Ellie; it'll save your feet some."
Down they went, scattering rocks and tearing their clothes, with Mr. Chips on her own and enjoying it. At the bottom Sam said, "Max, how fast can you do a half mile?"
"I don't know. Three minutes."
"Make it less. Get going. I'll help Ellie."
"No."
"You get there! You're needed."
"No!"
Sam sighed. "Always some confounded hero. Take her other arm."
They made a couple of hundred yards half carrying Eldreth, when she shook them off. "I can go faster alone," she panted.
"Okay, let's go!" Sam rasped.
She proved herself right. Ignoring her injured feet she pumped her short legs in a fashion which did not require Max's best speed to keep up, but nevertheless kept him panting. The ship grew larger ahead of them. Max saw that the cage was up and wondered how long it would take to attract attention and get it lowered.
They were half way when Sam shouted, "Here comes the cavalry! Speed it up!"
Max glanced over his shoulder. A herd of centaurs--a dozen, two dozen, perhaps more--was sweeping toward them from the hills on a diagonal plainly intended to cut them off. Ellie saw them too and did speed up, with a burst that momentarily outdistanced Max.
They had cut the distance to a few hundred yards when the cage swung free of the lock and sank lazily toward the ground. Max started to shout that they were going to make it when he heard the drum of hooves close behind. Sam yelled, "Beat it, kids! Into the ship." He stopped.
Max stopped too, while shouting, "_Run_, Ellie!
Sam snarled, "Run for it, I said! What can _you_ do? Without a gun?"
Max hesitated, torn by an unbearable decision. He saw that Ellie had stopped. Sam glanced back, then backhanded Max across the mouth. "Get moving! Get her inside!"
Max moved, gathering Ellie in one arm and urging her on. Behind them Sam Anderson turned to face his death ... dropping to one knee and steadying his pistol over his left forearm in precisely the form approved by the manual.