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was sure he'd not be able to make it. The contagion of Mannix's fear had touched him. And he wondered then if Mannix's fear had been like his own: that no matter what his hatred of the system, of the Marine Corps, might be, some instilled, twisted pride would make him walk until he dropped, and his fear was not of the hike itself, but of dropping. He looked up at Mannix and said, "Do you think you can make it, Al?"
Mannix heavily slapped his knee. He seemed not to have heard the question. The giddy sensation passed, and Culver got up to warm his hands at the lamp.
"I'll bet if Regiment or Division got wind of this they'd lower the boom on the bastard," Mannix said.
"They have already. They said fine." "What do you mean? How do you know?" "He said so, before you came in. He radioed to the base for permission, or so he said."
"The bastard."
"He wouldn't dare without it," Culver said. "What I can't figure out is why Regiment gave him the O.K. on it."
"The swine. The little swine. It's not on account of H & S Company. You know that. It's because it's an exploit. He wants to be known as a tough guy, a boondocker."
"There's one consolation, though," said Culver, after a pause, "if it'll help you any."
"What, for God's sake?"
"Old Rocky, or whatever they call him, is going to hike along, too."
"You think so?" Mannix said doubtfully.
"I know so. So do you. He wouldn't dare not push along with his men."
Mannix was silent for a moment. Then he said viciously, as if obsessed with the