The lanky Canadian came erect and looked for a long moment at his
superior. He said finally, soberly, "It occurs to me that I'm probably
doing the same thing you came to do."
"What have you found?"
"That a small bomb has been attached to the starter."
Johnny didn't change expression. It fitted in. "What else?" he said.
Derek handed him a steel ring.
Johnny McCord looked at it, recognized it for what it was and stuck it
in his pocket. "Let's go back to the office. Yell in to the cook to
send some coffee over, and call Pierre. We've got some notes to check."
Mademoiselle Desage was a late riser. When she entered the office, the
three Sahara Reforestation Commission officers were already at work.
She said snappishly to Johnny McCord, "Today I would like to see these
destroyed pumps."
Johnny said, his eyebrows questioning, "How did you know they were
destroyed?"
"It doesn't seem to be much of a secret. The story is all about the
camp."
"Oh?" Johnny sighed, then drawled to Derek, "I say, Si, you better go
get the hired hand, we might as well finish this up so we can get back
to work."
Derek nodded and left.
Johnny McCord left the collator he'd been working with, went around
behind his desk and sat down. "Take a chair, Miss Desage. I want to say
a few things in the way of background to you."
She sat, but said defiantly, "I have no need of a lengthy lecture on
the glories of the Sahara Reforestation Commission."
"Coffee?" Pierre Marimbert said politely.
"No, thank you."
Johnny said, his voice thoughtful, "I imagine the real starting point
was back about 1957 when the Chinese discovered that a nation's
greatest natural resource is its manpower."
* * * * *