Free Collection 1986 - Night Over The Solomons (v5.0) by Louis L’Amour Page A

looked at it.
    Not even, he thought, if the Petex outfit had beaten them to it.
    “You can be ready for anything,” Joe Leone had said, “they’ve got Vincent Boling running their show, an’ you know what he is. An’ he’s got Frank Mather, Sid Bordie, and Ben Pace working with him.”
    Turk knew them all. Bordie and he had tangled only a short time before, and Mather was a man who had done a short stretch in the federal pen for flying dope over the line from Mexico. The three were flying muscle men, and in this game they were playing for stakes that were enormous. And what happened back here in the jungle might never be known.
    “Tomorrow we start working,” Turk said, looking up suddenly. “Every man carries a gun at all times, but no shot will be fired unless you are first fired upon. If possible we must make friends with the natives, or whoever there is out here. First, remember these boys we’re playing tag with are tough. Nobody is to go into the jungle alone unless it is Buck or myself, and I don’t want either you, Mora, or Dick going into the jungle alone until you know your way around.”
    “You think we’ll have trouble? Shooting trouble?” London asked.
    “You bet we will. But guns aren’t something to be taken lightly, and neither is shooting when you are shooting at other men. We’ve got a job to do, and that’s the first thing. If they want war, let them start it.” He grew thoughtful. “Then we’ll give them all they want an’ more!”
    Daylight found Dick London working over his gear with Mora at his side. Turk came out from under the mosquito bar mopping the sweat from his face despite the early hour. It had been a thick, close night.
    “We may get a storm,” Turk said, “so let’s get busy.”
    They ate a quick breakfast, and Turk went out with Shan to give the ship a thorough check. Buck Rodd came down to the beach and called out to them.
    “You can land up here if you want,” he said. “I’ve just been over this savanna. There’s no rocks, no dead trees.”

----
    M ADDEN CAME ASHORE, wiping his hands on a piece of waste. At a jerk of Rodd’s head, he followed him to one side.
    “Come have a look,” Rodd suggested. “I didn’t want the others to know about this.”
    The two big men walked side by side, up the slight rise to the long level of the savanna. A light wind stirred the tall grass, but scarcely ruffled the heavier leaves of the jungle growth beyond. Buck stopped suddenly and pointed. In a patch of bare ground near an ant hill there was the track of a human foot—a sandal track.
    “Last night,” Buck said, “someone probably came down to look us over.”
    “Yeah,” Turk agreed. He hitched up his belt and grinned. “Well, maybe we’ll have trouble, but lets hope we duck it.” On a sudden thought, he turned and glanced toward the spur of the mountain. If there was any tower there, he could not distinguish it now. He remarked about it.
    “I noticed that, too,” Buck agreed, “but if the thing is there, and it is old and weathered, we might not see it. At sundown the outline is sharper against the sky. Should I have a look?”
    “No, better not. We’ve unloaded most of our gear here, so why don’t you and Shan stick around and keep an eye on things. Sort of fix the camp up, too. Mora, Dick, and I are going upstairs now.”

----
    W ITH THE AMPHIBIAN turned into the wind, Turk warmed the ship up and started down the smooth water of the lake. The speed built up, and the ship climbed on the step as he put the stick forward. Then he brought it back and the ship took off easily, skimming off over the low jungle, building up speed.
    In a wide circle, he swung back toward the lake, his eyes scanning the jungle, yet there was nothing, nothing except…He stared again, and back in the notch of the hills he saw some taller trees. His eyes sharpened. He knew the trees growing among ruins often grew to greater height.
    Over the lake, the magnetometer was slowly