One Of Our Dinosaurs Is Missing by David Forrest Page B

nose. You’ve got an ear cracked by frostbite--and in New York on a hot autumn day. And Pi Wun Tun has been arrested for being drunk and disorderly in the museum.”
    Sam Ling grinned in the darkness. “All in the cause of our country, Comrade Leader. And was not the acting of Pi Wun Tun quite superb? He helped the nanny-ladies with his subtlety.”
    “Subtlety?” snarled Lui Ho. “Pi Wun Tun has as much subtlety as a fart! I caught a smell of his breath as they dragged him past. He was as drunk as a warlord.”
    Sam Ling turned his rising chuckle into a muffled cough.
     
    Emily jerked on the ropes. She seemed satisfied with her complicated pulley.
    “Right,” she said. “Susanne, up you climb. Unbolt the bone. The rest of us will take the weight and then lower it to the ground.”
    Susanne swarmed up the iron frame and began work.
    “Take the strain,” called Emily, softly. “Now, Susanne. Give it a push as soon as the last bolt is undone.” The four nannies hauled against the rope.
    There was a creaking sound. Nothing happened.
    “Try again.”
    There was a grunt from Susanne. She stepped onto the hip-bone, wedged her shoulders against the ironwork and pushed with both arms.
    Emily’s pulley system had been calculated to support the weight of the dinosaur pelvis. The mathematics hadn’t included the added poundage of Susanne. There was a sound of clothes tearing and a squeal from Susanne. The ropes groaned. There was a dull thump as the young nanny rode the pelvis, like a bucking bronco, to the ground. She examined herself. Apart from her gloves, she was naked. She looked around for her clothes. There was no sign of them, or of the other nannies.
    “Oh, gosh!” she gasped. “Where’th everybody?”
    There was a muffled yelp above her. She looked up. A bunch of legs and arms, sticking out from a web of rope, was tied to the side of the brontosaurus framework. Susanne’s cotton overalls, now shredded, dangled overhead on one of the bolts.
    “Get us down, idiot,” came Melissa’s strangled voice. “You launched us. Come and get us down. Quickly!” Susanne struggled up the framework and began loosening the ropes round the nannies. Hettie’s head and shoulders appeared. She looked at Susanne, her face purple dark in the lanternlight, her eyebrows raised. “Good grief, lassie. How dare you? How dare you?”
    “Thorry, Nanny Hettie,” stammered Susanne.
    “Get dressed, this minute,” ordered Hettie, tearing at the ropes across her chest “Get down at once and make yourself decent.
    “That lassie,” groaned Hettie to Emily. “If she’s gi’en her head, she’ll grow up to be a courtesan.”
    Susanne dropped to the ground. She reached up and unhooked her clothes. They were unwearable. She wrapped herself in one of the jute sacks, and then began untying the nannies again.
    “Dinnae EVER do that again,” stormed Hettie, as she finally lowered herself down the framework to the plinth. She rubbed the bruises on her chest where the ropes had caught her. “Dinnae ever parade yourself naked in company again. Absolutely disgusting behaviour. Nakedness is for the privacy of the bathroom--and nowhere else.”
    “Yeth, Nanny Hettie,” said Susanne, meekly.
    The five nannies gathered round the big pelvis. Emily prodded it. It was undamaged. She tried to move it, but it scarcely rocked. “It’s the biggest problem we’ve got,” she said, peering at it closely through her pince-nez. “But I know how to get it out.”
    “You’re optimistic,” said Una.
    “Organized,” smiled the old nanny, wriggling her nose. “Gather yourselves for the great effort, ladies. The big offensive. Flex your muscles for the final assault. Shoulders to the wheel and noses to the grindstone. The relief of Mafeking.”
    “Emily, please keep to the point,” Hettie interjected. “Er ... yes,” continued Emily, her face flushing. “We take the bones, one at a time, along the corridor to the window overlooking the