Hell's Legionnaire by L. Ron Hubbard Page A

all of it. And because
you know the way and have the map, I’ll let you have sixty percent.”
    At first I thought
that Montrey was just trying to humor Copain. I should have known better than
that. I should have been on my guard. God knows, if I had been, maybe some of
those men would be living today.
    Copain appeared to be
easier.
    â€œAll right, Tanner.
Just you and I. And I get sixty percent because of that map. You don’t know
where it is, but I do, and I’ll find it as soon as I’m off this post. We’ll
make a run for it tonight. There’s plenty of it for both of us in that town,
isn’t there, Tanner?
    â€œMore than fifty Moor
barbs could carry. Jewels, Tanner —think of it. And gold. I’ll take the jewels.
Gold is too heavy, Tanner. And I’m . . . I’m . . . tired. . . .”
    Copain sagged back on
his blankets. His eyes flickered shut. Phlegm rattled in his throat. His
fingers contracted like claws.
    I moved forward again
and drew the blanket over Copain’s face. Then I crawled backward out of the
tent and went over to the murette . I sat down on a rock, facing the
opposite side of the ravine.
    Suddenly, Ivan’s
machine gun jerked out of the embrasure and pointed at me. Another gun rammed
its blunt muzzle against the small of my back. I looked up and saw Montrey’s
queerly tight face.

CHAPTER TWO
    Mutiny
    I gave my kepi a tug and looked
at Ivan. “Perhaps, Ivan, you had better save those bullets for the Berbers and
point that machine gun back into the ravine.”
    Ivan’s dark, sunken
eyes did not waver from my face. Nor did the machine gun.
    Montrey smiled.
    â€œMon corporal,” he said, “I have said
a few words to the men. They have decided to give you a chance.”
    â€œVery nice of them, mon général, ” I snapped.
    â€œYou might do better,”
replied Montrey, “by sitting there and answering a few questions.” He jerked
his gun at Ivan and his smile broadened. “Mon corporal, why did you join
the Legion?”
    â€œWhat are you driving
at, Montrey?”
    He struck a pose,
looking like a scarecrow, and I would have laughed at him had it not been for
the revolver and machine gun.
    â€œWe want to know if
you wish to continue serving France.”
    â€œYes,” I replied, as
quietly as I could. “If you’re talking about desertion, we don’t know anything
about the country to the northwest of us and I don’t think we could even get
through east to the main command. These devils think too much of our Lebel
rifles and they hate the Makhzan on general principles. We’ll have to
stick until we get a relief column.”

    â€œMon corporal,” he said, “I have said a few words to the men.
They have decided to give you a chance.”
    â€œRelief column, hein ?
You think they care enough about a squad to send a relief column after
it—running the risk of losing a whole company in doing so? You are cafard , mon corporal . You think only in terms of brass bands and medals. If you
do not wish to come with us, then we will find this map and go ourselves.” He
lifted the revolver. “Without you.”
    â€œSo that’s the way the
wind blows. You’ll murder me and light out yourselves. How do you think you
will find your way? No one has ever marked these peaks. You have no charts. You
would be lost a day’s march away from this base.”
    â€œYou have a compass,”
smiled Montrey. “We would like to borrow that.”
    I reached into the
right breast pocket of my tunic and pulled out the compass. It was primarily
designed for determining azimuths and interceptions for machine-gun fire. It
had a raised wire sight and when one looked through the glass eyepiece he saw a
number on the compass disc and the object which would determine a bearing.
    I handed it to Montrey
and with a glance to make certain that Ivan Njivi was still covering