by Charley Hart
by Charley Hart
FEEDBACK to Charley Hart
The men were happy to be back aboard the Indy after their ordeal in Spain. Even the food looked good for a change.
Oldroyd greedily bit into his meat, not bothering to wipe the grease that dripped down his chin.
"Guess what that is," Styles grinned.
"Hmm?" Oldroyd stopped chewing.
"Remember how your stupid escape attempt got Mr. Hornblower put in the hole?"
"I thought -- all that was -- over, no grudges," Oldroyd said, swallowing the last bits of the meat.
"You know what was down in that hole with him, don't you?" Styles wrinkled his nose and made a squeaking noise.
Oldroyd stared at his empty plate. "Styles -- you didn't!" He was beginning to turn green.
"They come to me, y'know ..." He squeaked again.
Oldroyd bolted for the nearest bucket.
"Styles, that was nasty. Even for you." Matthews frowned.
"He deserved it. Besides, it was just beef."
Matthews tried very hard not to smile.
THE END
