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diff --git a/old/50889.txt b/old/50889.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 2d42003..0000000 --- a/old/50889.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1072 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Half past Alligator, by Donald Colvin - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Half past Alligator - -Author: Donald Colvin - -Release Date: January 10, 2016 [EBook #50889] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HALF PAST ALLIGATOR *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - - Half Past Alligator - - By DONALD COLVIN - - Illustrated by BARTH - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Galaxy Science Fiction September 1953. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - - It takes sportsmanship to make a ball team ... - and foul play to get a backward race civilized! - - -Bill Bradley shooed away the group of Quxas that had surged over -the first-base line. With broad grins on their flat, piebald faces, -they moved away--in the wrong direction, of course--and squatted -in a smiling semicircle around Pat Reed, who was playing third. -This was bad, because Reed was a fifty-fifty player: It was an even -chance whether he got the ball or the ball got him. One of the -half-domesticated thrags broke loose and cantered across the outfield -with its peculiar five-legged gait. In the hubbub, Ray Bush stole -second. Nobody seemed to notice. - -Sighing heavily, Bill returned to the mound and whiplashed in a fast -one, tight across the letters. The hitter got only a small piece of it; -a pop fly sauntered toward left field. Judging it to a nicety, Gust -Mustas came racing in, evaded a tethered thrag, leaped a hole some Quxa -had dug and forgotten, and made a shoestring catch, retiring the side. -The Quxas cheered deliriously. - -Bill trotted off the mound. For a moment, the thrill of the game held -him. This was the way things should be: The feel of smoothly flowing -muscles, the thudding sound of horsehide hitting a leather glove, the -weight of a bat in your hands in your first ball game after clambering -over and scrabbling in an unexplored planet for fourteen months. - -Then he caught sight of Candace Mathews, walking among the pneuma-huts -that served as the outpost camp for the expedition. Gloom enveloped him -again, surrounding him like a dank fog. - - * * * * * - -For fourteen long months, Bill had feasted on the memory of Candy -Mathews, on his recollection of her turquoise eyes and cascading brown -hair, on the remembrance of her soft lips on his last night under the -four moons of Vensor III. - -Today she had arrived with the seventy-odd men and women who comprised -the appraisal unit, the final group of the planet's explorers. He had -looked forward like a schoolboy to her coming. And, like a schoolboy, -he had suffered black despair when his dreams were shattered. - -For the Candy Mathews who got off the shuttlebug at Camp Outpost was -not the Candy Mathews who had said soft words on Vensor III. She was, -instead, a self-assured young woman, somehow harder, who felt only an -indifferent tolerance toward a tall young man named Bill Bradley, and -an all-consuming, hero-worshipping infatuation for a newcomer, a dapper -walking brain, Vance Montgomery, one of the council's smart boys, with -the title of planet evaluator. - -"He's simply wonderful," she had said. And the joy of life had gone out -of Bill Bradley. - -The appraisal group brought in athletic equipment and Bill's men -spontaneously declared a holiday, their first on the planet. Baseball -was the order of the afternoon and they shanghaied a not unwilling Bill -to pitch. He should, he knew, be laying out reports for Montgomery to -study. He did not particularly want to be with Montgomery. - -Bill sat on the xetal log that served as a bench. - -One Quxa was bent over, examining first base. He made a colorful sight. -The first baseman slapped him jovially on the loin cloth to move him. - -The owner of the thrag caught up to it and was struggling manfully -to lead it away. The five-legged beast defied his efforts, rearing -and dragging him. A dozen Quxas stood nearby. Their sympathies were -obviously with their fellow-Quxa, but they made no move to help him. - -Reed was on the bench next to Bill. He had come in with the appraisal -group. - -"Your vivid friends," he said, cocking a thumb at the Quxas, "don't -appear too bright." - -"They're smart enough," said Bill. "Almost as intelligent as we are. -It's just that they've never risen above a herd culture." - -"Look," said Reed. "I'm a silviculturist. Give me a hunk of wood and I -can tell how long it took to grow, what it's good for, where it can be -raised and how much board and profit can be made out of it. But this -kind of talk throws me. Try another wave-length." - -"Socially, they're like the seals or penguins back on Earth. They like -to gather in groups. The things they can do individually, they do -well. But they don't know how to help each other. That's beyond them." - -"Don't understand the meaning of cooperation?" - -"The word isn't even in their language. I've seen forty of them -standing around, fretting and stewing, while the horals killed off one -of their fellows." - -"What are horals?" - -"The other dominant life-form here. Nasty brutes, like big upright ants -with tentacles. Stand about as high as my chest. Most malignant things -I've seen. One Quxa can handle any horal, maybe even two or three. But -the horals hunt in packs. Good-by Quxa." - -"Killing them off, are they?" - -"This is the last big concentration the Quxas have left. In another -hundred years, there'll be no more Quxas." - - * * * * * - -They looked again at the natives. The Quxas were something to -see--human in form, although somewhat shorter than Earthmen; their -skins were blotched and dashed with patches of vivid colors. -Antiquarians talked of their resemblance to the ancient circus clowns, -a likeness furthered by their broad, flat faces and habitual grins. - -"Sort of hate to see them disappear," Bill said glumly. "They're happy, -good-natured creatures. In their whole race, I know only one who's -mean. We've done our best to help them. But if they won't cooperate -even in a matter of life and death, what incentive can you offer them?" - -An elbow dug into him. - -"Up to the platter, dream boy," said Gust Mustas. "A hit means two -runs." - -Selecting a bat, Bill made his way to the plate. In the middle -distance, Vance Montgomery emerged from a hut. Candy went to him -eagerly, put a hand on his arm. A deep rage engulfed Bill. - -The first pitch was a curve that failed to break. As it came fatly over -the plate, Bill swung angrily. The ball rocketed up and away, past the -infield, over the head of the desperately running left-fielder and -dropped toward a sure home run. - -Then a curious thing happened. One of the Quxas darted away from the -gabbling group along the foul line, his short legs churning over the -uneven ground. As the ball sank, he dove, plucked it out of the air -with one broad hand, turned a somersault and came up with it, grinning. -It was an impossible catch and the Earthmen joined the Quxas in -applause. Still clinging to the ball, the Quxa made little bobbing bows -of acknowledgment. - -"Throw it in!" shouted Bill. The Quxa stood motionless. "Throw it in, -Adlaa!" Bill urged. He went through a throwing motion. - -The Quxa nodded comprehension. He went into a violent wind-up. His left -foot came up, his upper body went back, his right arm snapped in an -arc. The ball flew from his hand, straight and fast. - -In the wrong direction, of course. - -The pack of Quxas pelted after it, shouting, picked it up and threw -again. To his surprise, Bill found himself pounding after them, bawling -fruitless pleas, aware that he looked foolish, but, in his rage, not -caring. He closed in on them on the fifth throw and his fingertips -touched the ball. He succeeded only in deflecting it. There was a dull -_thunk_ and the game was over. The ball had struck Vance Montgomery, -planet evaluator, squarely in the left eye. - -Three things were said then to Bill Bradley. - -One was by Montgomery as he handed back the ball. "I was not aware, -Bradley, that the job of camp leader entailed joining the rowdyism of -the native races." - -One was by Candy Mathews, hopping with anger. "You're a barbarian, Bill -Bradley. Monty might have been badly hurt." - -The third was by a clot of Quxas, crowding eagerly. "Play ball! -Billbrad, more play ball!" - -To the first two, Bill did not reply. To the Quxas, he said one word, -"Nuts!" and dolefully followed Montgomery into the headquarters hut. - - * * * * * - -In spite of his natural prejudice against Montgomery, Bill was forced -into a reluctant admiration for the way the man worked. - -Montgomery's task was to recommend whether the planet should be marked -for immediate colonization, placed on a reserve list for future -expansion, or be left strictly alone as unworthy of occupancy. He tore -through Bill's reports like a small child through a bag of jellybeans. -His questions, if pompous, were pointed. - -Within twenty-four hours, ready to leave for the main camp, he called a -conference. - -He stood before the group, as dapper as a man can be with a rainbow -bruise under one eye, complacently listening to the resonance of his -own voice. Beside him, Candy nodded worshipful agreement. Bill grumped -in a corner. - -For a full forty-five minutes, Montgomery outlined additional data he -wanted gathered. His voice was faintly chiding, implying by its tone -that anybody but a dolt would have obtained the information long ago. - -"And now," he said, "we come to the question of the humanoid denizens -of this planet--the so-called Quxas." He fingered his black eye. "Many -persons might conclude that the Quxas are not worth saving; and in -themselves, they are not. However, my preliminary conclusions--based, -unfortunately, on insufficient data--lead me to believe that this -planet will be used for colonization in about five hundred years. It -would be very convenient then to have a dominant life-form friendly to -the galactic humans and capable of being integrated with the colonists. -Some method of preserving the Quxas must therefore be worked out. In -this, the advance group has failed lamentably." - -He paused, glanced around triumphantly. - -"How do I propose to achieve this? By a historical method. What do -nations do when they are in peril? They call upon a single man, place -themselves under him and let him lead them out. When the ancient -western civilization was in its greatest danger after the fall of Rome, -the people gathered around the strong men, made them kings and dukes -and earls, and were saved from barbarism. - -"I shall do the same for the Quxas. The Quxas shall have a king." - -His eyes sought out Bill. - -"My acquaintance here has been short. I must rely on advice. Bradley, -whom would you recommend as king of the Quxas?" - -"Well," said Bill slowly, "Moahlo is the most intelligent. He's -good-natured and kindly. He has a lot of artistic ability. Some of his -carvings are being taken back for the Galactic Folk Museum." - -"An artist!" said Montgomery in disgust. "Well, let's have a look at -him." - - * * * * * - -Moahlo was finishing a figurine near one of the meandering paths that -the Quxas had worn by habit, not design. A bemused group of natives -looked on admiringly. - -Down the path came Ratakka, the biggest of the Quxas, his shoulders -proudly back, his face set in the truculent scowl. Bill knew and -disliked him, and apprehensively felt sure the peaceful scene would be -destroyed. Alone of an amiable, tolerant race, Ratakka was perpetually -ill-tempered, the rankling product of Lord knew what alien genetic -accident or trauma. - -Ratakka found his path obstructed by the carving. Callously, he brought -his foot down on the delicate figurine, crushing it to splinters. -Moahlo sprang up in gentle protest. Ratakka gave him the back of a -meaty hand that knocked him off his feet. Two spectators indicated -disapproval. Ratakka smashed their heads together and strode on. - -"To save a culture, Bradley," said Montgomery, who had watched the -brutal display with admiration, "you need strength, not delicacy or -feeling. That man shall be king of the Quxas." - -He ran after Ratakka. - -The members of the outpost staff looked at Bill in dismay. He shrugged -sadly and walked out of the headquarters hut. At the doorway, Adlaa was -waiting for him with the same old plea. - -"Play ball?" he begged. "More play ball, Billbrad?" - -In his despondent mood, Bill did not care. - -"All right. I'll throw the ball to you and you throw it back to me." - -"Quxas not do that." - -"It's just as much fun to throw the ball in one direction as in any -other direction," Bill explained patiently. "Unless you throw it back, -forget it--no play ball." - -Adlaa thought seriously. "Hunky dokey. Want play ball." - -They were tossing it back and forth in the middle of a cheering group -when a half-track passed, taking Montgomery, Candy and Ratakka to the -main camp. The look that the girl gave Bill was disdainful. - -"There's a gaggle of natives outside in assorted shades," said Pat -Reed the next day. "They want to play ball. Moahlo's at their head. He -carved a bat." - -"Tell them to beat it. We're busy." - -"Let's give them some fun while we can. They won't enjoy life much -after King Rat gets back here." - -"That's the truth," Bill agreed. "All right." - - * * * * * - -"I wish your painted idiots would get over their baseball mania," -complained Rudy Peters, the mineralogist, two days later. "Look me over -carefully, will you, Bill? I think my throwing arm just dropped off." - -"They're nutty about it, all right," Bill Bradley said. "Too bad it -couldn't have been about something with some economic value." - -"Economic value, the man wants. Okay, I'll talk economic value to you. -Bet you fifty units I can make a better ball team out of these freaks -than you can." - -"Well, make it thirty." - -"You're on, sucker. I've lined up the sweetest shortstop that ever spit -in a glove ..." - -"Here's your thirty," said Rudy Peters a week after. "How was I to -know that shortstop wouldn't throw the ball to anyone except the -center-fielder?" - -"Team play's the stuff, lad," said Bill Bradley. "Stress team play. -Twenty-five, twenty-seven, twenty-nine, thirty. Exactly right. Another -lesson at the same price?" - -He was refused, but never on an exploration had Bill Bradley had so -much fun. And never, he reminded himself grimly, had he got so little -work done. The Quxas were neglecting their skimpy food plots in their -eagerness to play. They were getting lean. Finally, with reluctance, -Bill called a temporary halt to baseball. - -"Billbrad say no baseball until work done," said Moahlo sadly to Adlaa. -"Sometimes Billbrad talk like southpaw pitcher." - -Adlaa was trying to cultivate his food plot with the help of a thrag. -The beast was of independent mind. It dragged Adlaa in eccentric ovals, -in defiance of agricultural needs. - -"Adlaa want finish work, play baseball," the Quxa commented. "Thrag no -play baseball, say nuts to work. Adlaa be old like Old Hoss Radbourne -before work done." - -Moahlo contemplated. "Adlaa have trouble his thrag. Moahlo have trouble -his. Moahlo help Adlaa his thrag and Adlaa help Moahlo his. Get work -done more faster." - -Adlaa dismissed the revolutionary thought. "Quxas not do." - -"We play baseball run down play," argued Moahlo. "Play together. You -throw ball me. I throw ball you. Yippee. Man out." - -"Same team. Old pals. Want sing team song?" - -"Want play team with thrag." - -Adlaa considered the matter in this new light. "Like ball game," he -said at last in amazement. - -"Sure. You, me be us together. Make thrag look like busher." - -They both took hold of the thrag. Unable to resist their combined -strengths, the beast submitted docilely. They began to work. - - * * * * * - -Glancing out from his labor in the headquarters pneuma-hut, Bill saw -the incident in happy surprise. Perhaps, after all, his stay here might -produce something to help the culture that Montgomery would introduce -upon his return. He had no doubt of Montgomery's success. - -Neither, for that matter, had Montgomery. At the main camp, things were -going swimmingly. - -The camp lay on the very fringe of the Quxa territory, but, by an -arduous hunt, Ratakka had captured eight wandering Quxas to whom he -immediately set about teaching the duties of subjects. His method -was simple--the Quxa followed his orders, which he obtained from -Montgomery, or the Quxa was knocked down. If he still refused, he was -knocked down again. Within three weeks, Ratakka had them doing things -no Quxas ever had done before. They performed them reluctantly and -sullenly, but they did them. - -Seeing the result, but not the means, Candy was enthusiastic. - -"They're working together!" she cried. "Oh, Monty, what will the Quxas -do to reward you?" - -"Oh, they'll probably make a culture god of me," said Montgomery, -managing to look modest. "Like the Greeks did to that Martian, Proma Ss -Thaa, who taught them the use of fire." - -As time went on, though, the girl began to have doubts. - -"But they're doing everything for Ratakka," she protested. "As far as -they're concerned themselves, they're more wretched than before." - -"That's the way feudal cultures are built, my dear," Montgomery assured -her. "The king gives them law and a fighting leader. In return, the -subjects take care of his bodily comfort." - -"But they look so unhappy!" - -"In saving an inferior race, we cannot be concerned too much about the -happiness of a few miserable members. Perhaps in three hundred years or -so, they can afford happiness." - -And finally an incident happened to complete her disillusionment. - -One of Ratakka's morose subjects managed to slip the shackles with -which he was bound at night and make a bolt for freedom. The king -pursued him relentlessly, brought him back and then beat him, coldly -and cruelly, slugging and gouging and kicking. - -Ashen-faced, Candy moved to interfere; Montgomery restrained her. - -"We're saving a race," he said. "You can't make an omelet without -breaking a few eggs." - -Candy turned and ran sobbing to her quarters, unable to dispel the -memory of the writhing body on the ground. - - * * * * * - -The next day was the day to move equipment. It was a policy of the -expeditions to leave their wornout machines for the most friendly of -the native races, who could dismantle them and use the parts. The -equipment not worth toting back to Earth was to be taken to the advance -camp, where the Quxa center was. Montgomery also planned that day to -take Ratakka to his kingdom. - -A few minutes ahead of the motorcade, Candy slipped out, got into -a battered half-track and started driving the eighty miles to the -advance camp. For the first twenty-five miles, she told herself that -her eagerness was because it was a nice day and she wanted to get out -of camp. - -For the next twenty-five miles, she called herself a liar. - -For the third twenty-five miles she gave herself up unashamedly to -thinking about Bill Bradley: his smile, his gentleness, the awkward -grace of his lean body. Not a man to set a planet on fire--but how -pleasant and restful to have around! - -She wondered if he would forgive the way she had acted. Somehow she was -sure he would. - -The narrow vehicular trail ran through a grove of fernlike trees. It's -just over the rise, Candy thought, just over the rise and down into the -saucer, where Bill is waiting.... - -The half-track struck a rock, lurched, threw a tread and went off the -road, out of control. - -That did not matter especially, for the Quxas could use the material -very well where it was. Candy went forward briskly afoot. A fallen -branch brushed her ankle. Unheedingly, she kicked it away. She began -to reconstruct Bill, feature by feature: the way his hair swirled -on his forehead; his eyebrows, arched and regular; his eyes, wide, -deep-seated, with inner pools of merriment; his nose, straight and -rather ... - -Another branch caught her. She lifted her foot to free it. It did not -come free. Another tentacle moved around her, pinioning her right arm -to her side. She whirled in terror and found herself in the grip of the -horals. - - * * * * * - -There were a dozen of the horrors, their antenna ears erect, mandibles -open. They exuded an acid odor, a sign of hunger. Candy screamed. She -fought to reach her pistol, strapped to her right hip. More tentacles -stopped her. She screamed and screamed again, throwing her body to -shake off the grip, trying to kick with her feet. - -There was a movement in the road at the top of the rise. For a moment, -elation surged in Candy, almost stifling her. Perhaps some expedition -member had heard her, was hurrying to her rescue. Then she saw that -the newcomers were Quxas. Hope vanished, leaving her limp and hollow. -To be killed by these horrors was bad enough, but to be killed in the -presence of a group of piebald morons, who would stand and watch and -moan, but not lift a hand ... - -In her agitation, she did not notice that the Quxas were nine in number -and wore baseball caps. They drew short clubs, shaped like bats. - -"Kill the umpire!" they shouted, hatred born of diamond conflicts in -their cry. "Kill the umpire!" they yelled and charged. - - * * * * * - -In military formation, they clubbed their way through their enemies, -battering and smashing until Candy was free, with a dozen dying horals -on the ground, their tentacles contracting and writhing. The Quxa -leader made his bobbing bow to her. - -"How do," he said politely. "We dip them in calcimine vat, you bet. We -hang them out like wash. Now we give team yell." - -The Quxas put their arms around each other's shoulders. In unison, they -chanted: - - "Hoe tomata; hoe potata - Half past alligata, - Bum, bum, bulligata, - Chickala dah! - Pussycats! Pussycats! - Rah! Rah! Rah!" - -"Pussycats," the leader explained to Candy, "are honored animal on -planet where Billbrad is head cheese." - -"I'll bet you play baseball nicely," Candy said. - -Woe broke forth on nine broad faces. - -"Misfortunately not," confessed the captain. "Thirty-three teams in -Quxa town. Pussycats in thirty-third place." He brightened. "Go ivory -hunt now. Catch nine new Quxas. Teach 'em baseball. Then maybe we beat -'em and not be in cellar any more." - -Together, the team bobbed politely to Candy and trotted down the road. - -Happily, Candy went up the rise, then stopped in astonishment, looking -at Quxa town. - -Gone was the straggling, haphazard settlement, with the flimsy huts -and untended starvation patches where individual Quxas tried to raise -their own food. Instead, building sites were laid out in straight, -broad rows, and Quxas were working, three and four in a group, raising -substantial homes of timber. Others were surrounding the settlement -with a wall of brambles, impenetrable to horals. Teams of men, two to a -thrag, were plowing, preparing large fields for tillage. And down the -side of the settlement, affectionately tended, ran a line of baseball -fields. - -Just off the road, a Quxa squatted, baseball cap on his head, watching -a crude sun dial. - -"Nice day for game," he greeted Candy. - - * * * * * - -Speechless with surprise, the girl made a dazed questioning gesture -toward the improvements. - -"Billbrad do it," the Quxa informed her. "He tell us how. Work one -by one, he say, work all time to fill belly, maybe fill horal belly -instead. Work all by all, do more quick. Have time in afternoon. Batter -up! Sock it, boy! Wing it home, he sliding!" - -The sun's shadow touched a peg. - -"Five minute!" bawled the Quxa. - -The laborers quit work, put away their tools. The farmers herded their -thrags into a strongly constructed corral. The natives gathered in -knots at the settlement edge and looked longingly at the baseball -fields. - -"Yestday I fool Billbrad," confided the Quxa. "I hide ball, catch him -off second. Billbrad get all red face and say--" - -"Never mind what Bill said," Candy interjected hastily. - -The shadow touched another peg. - -"Play ball!" the Quxa yelled. "Play ball! Play ball! Play ball!" - -He sprang up, produced a baseball glove and spat into it reverently. - -"I go play now. You come see. Get scorecard, know players." - -He looked at Candy hopefully. - -"'Specially me," he added. - -Out of the moil of Quxas came the lank form of Bill Bradley. He spied -the girl, whooped and came running to her. For a few moments they -talked at once, in an incoherent and ecstatic jumble. Then Candy, -catching control of herself, cited in admiration the change in the Quxa -village. - -"And you've done all this!" she concluded. - -"I didn't do anything!" Bill protested. "They like to play baseball -and this sort of happened. We're getting representative government -into action now. Each team elects a captain and the captains are the -town council. Tonight they're going to vote on naming the settlement -Brooklyn." - -"You know," said Candy, "I'll bet they'll make you a culture god." - - * * * * * - -The tanned face of Bill Bradley took on the rose hue of a blush. - -"Well, Moahlo carved a statue and they've put it in front of league -headquarters--that's their city hall," he admitted uncomfortably. "It -doesn't look much like me. I've got six arms because they wanted me -batting, pitching and catching a ball all at the same time." - -Candy slipped a hand into his. - -"Is there a place around here," she asked in a small tone, "where a -culture god can take a girl and--well, talk to her?" - -"Is there!" said Bill. "You just come with me ..." - -A heavy object bumped into him. He whirled at the touch. - -"Oh! Hi, Ratakka," Bill said in a flat voice. - -Montgomery's king had returned to his subjects. He was alone--his -captives having escaped off the ride over--and he was in vile temper. -Glaring evilly, he motioned at the baseball players. He was recalling -an advice of Montgomery: "Whatever your subjects like to do most, do it -better than they can. In that way, you will get their respect and find -it easier to take over." - -"What that fool doings-on?" snarled Ratakka. "Ratakka do, too." - -Bill's already sagging spirits sank again. With Ratakka's strength and -reflexes, the great brute undoubtedly would become the star of stars, -gathering admirers to himself and destroying all the pleasant prospects -now so happily started. Still, it was Bill's duty to give him every -chance ... - -"I'll see what team has an opening, Ratakka. Perhaps you'd better bat -seventh for a few days. Then you can move to the clean-up spot." - -The giant stopped him. "Ratakka not ordinary Quxa; Ratakka a king. -Ratakka not play like those serfs. Want special job." - -A wild thought struck Bill. On the playing fields were more than two -hundred Quxas, most of them with a justified and carefully nurtured -dislike for the surly slab of muscle before him. In the old days, they -could do nothing individually against him. - -But the Quxas had learned to fight as a team. If he could only give -them the shadow of an excuse, trap Ratakka into rousing their joint -anger, take advantage of the prejudices of their new-found love for -baseball, then Ratakka would get the reckoning that he deserved, the -days of his supremacy would be over, the threat of his tyranny would be -removed from a happy race. - - * * * * * - -Bill grinned broadly. "Sure thing, old pal," he said. - -He took off his own baseball cap and put it backward on Ratakka's head. -He signaled for someone to bring over a mask and chest protector. - -"There's only one of these at each playing field," Bill explained. "In -a way, he's boss of the game. Are you sure you want to do it? Sometimes -the players argue with you." - -"Anyone argue with Ratakka," the giant said, raising a huge fist, -"Ratakka knock 'em down. Ratakka a king, boss of game." - -"Okay, boy, you asked for it," Bill said. - -He thrust a whiskbroom into Ratakka's hand. - -"You can be umpire," said Bill Bradley. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Half past Alligator, by Donald Colvin - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HALF PAST ALLIGATOR *** - -***** This file should be named 50889.txt or 50889.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/8/8/50889/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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