'Come on,' said Roberto. 'Over he goes.'
As they leaned over and slid the body up and
over the stern, Harry kicked the machine-gun over
the edge. It splashed at the same time Albert did,
but while Albert turned over twice in the white,
churned, bubbling back-suction of the propeller
wash before sinking, the gun went straight down.
'That's better, eh?' Roberto said. 'Make it ship-
shape.5 Then as he saw the gun was gone, 'Where
is it? What did you do with it?'
'The ametralladoraV going into Spanish in excite-
'You know what.'
'I didn't see it.'
'You knocked it off the stern. Now I'll kill you,
'Take it easy,' said Harry. 'What the hell you
going to kill me about?'
'Give me a gun,' Roberto said to one of the sea-
sick Cubans in Spanish. 'Give me a gun quick!'
Harry stood there, never having felt so tall, never
having felt so wide, feeling the sweat trickle from
under his armpits, feeling it go down his flanks,
'You kill too much,' he heard the seasick Cuban
say in Spanish. 'You kill the mate* Now you want
to kill the captain. Who's going to get us across?*
'Leave him alone,' said the other. 'Kill him when
we get over.*