The Hunting Trip by III William E. Butterworth Page B

front of it a half-dozen very attractive females on stools showed a good bit of upper thigh as they sipped what in Jack & Charley’s establishment at 21 West Fifty-second Street would be called martinis. There were eight or so men at the bar, all wearing suits and ties, most of them ogling the lady drinkers.
    Phil and G. Lincoln took seats at the bar. G. Lincoln was kind enough to order for the both of them. “A double Famous Pheasant, two ice cubes, water on the side, and a Coca-Cola. Run a tab.”
    Before the drinks could be served they were joined by an Asian gentleman who looked like a midget sumo wrestler in a suit.
    â€œHow goes it, Geronimo?” he asked. “How’s everything in the ol’ teepee?”
    â€œ EXPLETIVE DELETED!! you, Fu Manchu,” G. Lincoln replied.
    â€œWho is this boy?” the minuscule Asian gentleman asked, pointingto Phil. “And more to the point, what’s he doing in here with the adults?”
    When he pointed, his suit jacket opened to the point where Phil could see something he recognized as the butt of a 1911A1 Colt semiautomatic pistol. He naturally wondered what a man so armed was doing in the German-American Gospel Tract Foundation building.
    â€œHe is a newcomer, freshly arrived to labor beside us doing the Lord’s work.”
    â€œPraise God! As He knows, we need all the help we can get. Unless, of course, you are pulling my leg, as you have a lamentable EXPLETIVE DELETED!! tendency to try to do.”
    â€œI am not. With the Almighty as my witness, this is CIC Administrator Philip Wallingford Williams the Third . . .”
    At least he didn’t call me Holden!
    â€œ. . . who prefers to be called Holden,” G. Lincoln concluded.
    â€œWell, I’ll be a EXPLETIVE DELETED!! monkey’s EXPLETIVE DELETED!! uncle!” the Asian gentleman declared. “Looking at you, I never would have guessed you might be one of us. How old are you, Holden?”
    â€œSeventeen, sir.”
    â€œWell, my boy, don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young. That’s First Timothy, Chapter four, Verse twelve, so you can take it to the bank. But on the other hand, I can’t help but wonder how ol’ J.C. Three is going to react when he sees who has been sent to assist us.”
    â€œI suspect the PL is going to keep Holden hidden from ol’ J.C. Three as much as possible,” G. Lincoln said.
    â€œOne never really knows what the PL will do, does one?” the diminutive Asian gentleman observed. “Especially if he’s had a couple of belts of Old Bushmills.”
    Curiosity overwhelmed Phil, and he disobeyed G. Lincoln’s order not to ask questions.
    â€œWhat are you talking about?” he asked.
    â€œAh, the innocence of youth!” the Asian gentleman said. “Old Bushmills, my son, is the modern version of what Saint Patrick and his fellow monks called
aqua vitae
, which means—”
    â€œWater of Life,” Phil interrupted. “I know my Latin. What I want to know is who is the PL and who is ol’ J.C. Three?”
    â€œGeronimo, when had you planned to bring Holden up to speed on those matters?”
    â€œNow is as good a time as any, I suppose,” G. Lincoln said. “But why don’t we let Holden buy us a libation before we get started?”
    â€œEvery once in a great while, Geronimo, you do make a good suggestion.”
    The waiter was summoned. G. Lincoln ordered “another just like this” and after being advised what that meant, the overweight Asian said, “That will do nicely for me, too.”
    Whereupon the waiter turned to Phil and asked, “And for you, sir?”
    â€œHolden,” the midget sumo wrestler then quoted, “‘My son, if sinners entice you, do not give in to them.’ Proverbs one:ten.”
    â€œI’ll bear that in mind,” Phil replied. “I will have the same, please,