The Disappointing ParcelJohnny stood as immobile as he could, for he had recognized the juvenile tone as belonging to white–bearded Dan Thunden, and common sense told him the cold thing against his neck was a gun snout. Hands slapped against his person and the superfirer pistol, his only weapon, was removed.
Johnny wore a bulletproof vest, a fact that Dan Thunden's search disclosed.
"I'll shoot you in the head," advised the boyish–voiced old man.
"So you're still working with them!" Johnny whispered back.
Dan Thunden cursed round, seafaring oaths under his breath.
"I'm wukkin' on them, not foah them," he gritted. "I laid aboard the lookout back yondah, and he won't set his sail foah some time to come."
"Then you and I had better work together," Johnny said hopefully, his large words
