Orders Is Orders Read Online Free PDF Page B

street he saw her face. She was white!
    She threw the three soldiers away from her. An officer was pouring a tirade of Chinese
     into her stubborn ears. She stood defiantly before them, glaring at them.
    “Clear out!” she shouted at them. “Beat it! Leave me alone!”
    The officer made a movement with his hand and the three soldiers strove to lay hands
     on her again. But she was too swift for that. She beat at their faces with her bare
     hands. Her hat came off and her platinum hair streamed down over her shoulders.
    She whirled and ran, the Chinese following. Ahead of her she saw Mitchell and Toughey
     and, taking them for more Chinese, tried to turn and double back.
    The three troopers were upon her instantly, seizing her arms.
    Mitchell paced forward. The first man thought that an artillery shell had hit him.
     The second thought not at all. The third stood aghast, slack-armed, backing up. Behind
     him an arm sprang into being, whirled him around. Toughey gave him a solid punch in
     the chest which sent him rolling up against the corner of the hotel.
    The girl was facing Mitchell. Her mouth was open in amazement and her bright blue
     eyes were very wide, made wider by mascara. “F’gawd sakes!” she gulped. “Th’ Marines !”
    “Yes’m,” said Mitchell. “Will that car run?”
    “Sure. How did you think I got here?”
    “Oh, boy,” said Toughey, hugging his rifle to port and whirling to face the troopers.
    The Chinese officer, his voice loud and shrill, advanced upon them. Behind him he
     knew that every carbine in his squadron was unlimbered.
    Mitchell stepped forward to meet him. They talked swiftly and angrily.
    “Where’s the rest of you guys?” demanded the girl.
    “Ain’t two of us enough?” said Toughey out of the side of his face.
    “That guy slings the lingo, don’t he?” said the girl.
    “Yeah,” said Toughey. “He slings the lingo and I sling the lead. This ain’t no tea
     party, sister.”
    “You’re tellin’ me?”
    Mitchell’s height was taut. His lean, tan face was stiff and the Chinese rapid-fired
     out of his mouth like a 1917 Browning .
    “He sounds like a native,” said the girl. “How come?”
    “His pa was a missionary around here once.”
    She seemed to find this very funny and Toughey growled, “Shut up. We ain’t out of
     this yet by a hell of a ways.”
    Mitchell was walking straight into the officer, and the Chinese, faced with such an
     irresistible force, could do nothing but give ground. Toughey and the girl moved up
     in Mitchell’s wake, Toughey kicking the keg along.

    Mitchell turned. “He says everybody has got to get out of this area. He says he was
     just trying to make you move along. You’ve got to go someplace but he doesn’t know
     where and neither do I. What are we going to do with you?”
    “Do you have to do anything with me?” said the girl.
    “This is your car, isn’t it?” said Mitchell.
    “In a way.”
    “Then get into it.”
    The girl got in and Toughey lifted the keg after her. The uncertain troopers sat their
     nervous horses, rifles in hand. One of them pulled slowly out of the group and rode
     around in back of the hotel. He was gone for some time and when he came back, Mitchell
     was sliding under the wheel of the car.
    The trooper yelled to the officer and the officer whirled to shout at his men.
    Mitchell stepped off the clutch and on the gas. The car shot away. The troopers surged
     ahead. A carbine banged and glass showered out of a window.
    Toughey jabbed the glass out of the back. He fired and worked his bolt and fired again.
    “And a bull’s-eye at one o’clock,” said Toughey. “And another bull’s-eye at one o’clock.
     Hey, slow up, you’re spoilin’ my aim!”
    Mitchell stepped on the throttle and slewed the car around the end of the street and
     down another. Ahead they could see the lorries but the road forked to the left and
     they raced in that direction.
    After ten minutes of speed, Mitchell