"Of course, sir." Max left the small room.
Joe Mauser and his officers were billeted in what had once been a motel
on the old road between Kingston and Woodstock. There was a shower and a
tiny kitchenette in each cottage. That was one advantage in a fracas
held in an area where there were plenty of facilities. Such military
reservations as that of the Little Big Horn in Montana and particularly
some of those in the South West and Mexico, were another thing.
Joe lowered himself into the room's easy-chair and bent down to untie
his laces. He kicked his shoes off. He could use that drink. He began
wondering all over again if his scheme for winning this Vacuum Tube
Transport versus Continental Hovercraft fracas would come off. The more
he saw of Baron Haer's inadequate forces, the more he wondered. He
hadn't expected Vacuum Tube to be in _this_ bad a shape. Baron Haer had
been riding high for so long that one would have thought his reputation
for victory would have lured many a veteran to his colors. Evidently
they hadn't bitten. The word was out all right.
Max Mainz returned with the drink.