Williams
stared at him for what seemed a long time before finally appearing to relent.
“Okay,”
he said at last, and shrugged. “We’ll try to build a raft …”
“Now
you’re talking!” said Sammy. He shot a sidelong glance at Sheila. “He’s talking
now, am I right?”
Sheila
began to nod and smile in a flood of relief.
And
then a gunshot rang out and everyone jumped—and
when the smoke had cleared Williams was standing with his rifle raised,
although he lowered it quickly to prevent further alarm. Sammy, meanwhile,
lifted his wildly trembling gun hand and merely looked at it, for Williams had
shot the weapon clean from his grasp.
“I’m sorry, too,” said Williams. “Now here’s
what I want you to do …”
