It just so happened that Joe, my helicopter pilot, and I had a day off from surveying the trestles and areas of train track which were inaccessible except by helicopter. At our office adjoining our landing area, I leaned back in my executive chair and fell over with a crash. "Ha-ha," said Joe. "Shut-up, you fink!" I replied, upside down.
We were interrupted by a knock on the door. I opened it. "We don't want any!" I said, slamming the door. "Hear! Hear!" bellowed Joe. Five 50-caliber slugs ripped off the hinges of the door, and it fell on Joe, who said "Ouch!"
"Come in," I replied. Joe pulled out a crowbar and pried the door off himself. I exclaimed, "Joe! You've found the crowbar!"
Meanwhile, the man who had been standing there said to us, "Hello."
"What are you doing here in Spuzzum?" says I.
"I'm here on a secret mission which concerns...." His words were drowned out as a mosquito-spraying plane crashed into the office and burst into flames.
On frisking his dead body, we found his secret. It was in Spanish, so I pulled out a Spanish dictionary. It exploded, blowing the crowbar out of Joe's hands. On translating it, I discovered I didn' t know what it meant. I decided to investigate.
Quickly, we ran to the helicopter. We jumped in, and Joe pulled the starting rope. Suddenly, the 'copter exploded in a seething cloud of flame! All of a sudden....
Continued in Part II