“I hadn’t finished saying it when it came zooming back. This time higher up and—” Blackie took a long breath. “The bloomin’ infidels! What do you think? They let go a bomb that missed us by inches.

“You should have seen us scatter,” Blackie laughed in spite of himself.

And then, of a sudden, the lines between his eyes grew deep and long. “They bombed us. They sank our ship. My buddy was killed. I caught it in the leg. I got a lifeboat off, doing what I could to save the women.

“Me,” he faltered. “I’m no sort of a story teller. But I hope I’m something of a fighter. This old leg will be good as new next spring. And, sure’s I’m living, I’m going hunting little brown men up there in Bristol Bay. They stole a cool million dollars’ worth of fish last season. How many’ll they get this year? That depends on. . . Read More