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Or didn't your world have any sciences, Dave Hanson?" Either the five months under his uncle had toughened him, or the sight of the bulldozer falling had knocked him beyond any strong reaction. The girl had practically told him he wasn't in his own world. He waited for some emotion, felt none, and shrugged. The action sent pain running through him, but he stood it somehow.
"That doesn't matter, but as for my arrest " "A trick, on some trumped-up charge. If he can hold you long enough to get some of your cash, that's all he wants. He knows he's got no jurisdiction over you not a day's hold. He knows you'd give a good deal to save your men." "Poor devils! But to be beaten by this Egyptian bulldozer not if I know it, Dicky" "Still, it may be expensive." "Ah!"
The Tractosaur was a "thinking bulldozer" the Spindrift scientists had designed. Barby continued, "I know you can make a small transmitter that will fit in your pocket, because that's all the Tractosaur control was, really. Well, if I wore a receiver that no one could see, and if you carried a transmitter that no one could see, we could put on the most wonderful mind-reading act in history!"
Up this hillside to a slash through the forest for a highway. Due south from an abandoned bulldozer. Keep out of sight. Never show against a skyline. She swallowed again. Then she said, "If he needs help, you could do more than I can. But I'll wait there where the woods begin. I can hide if I need to, and I might be of some use."
"That doesn't matter, but as for my arrest " "A trick, on some trumped-up charge. If he can hold you long enough to get some of your cash, that's all he wants. He knows he's got no jurisdiction over you not a day's hold. He knows you'd give a good deal to save your men." "Poor devils! But to be beaten by this Egyptian bulldozer not if I know it, Dicky" "Still, it may be expensive." "Ah!"
Ben's head turned, met the bartender's Cyclopean eye squarely, and held it with a look this bulldozer of men had never before received in all his checkered career. "Mick Kennedy," he said quietly, "another move like that, and in five minutes you'll be hanging from the other side." For the fraction of a second there was a pause; but, short as it was, the Irishman felt the sweat start.
In the night, though, and with hard going, it was not easy to estimate how far he'd gone. In fact, he was anxiously debating if he mightn't have passed the abandoned bulldozer when he came upon the place where blasting had been going on. Still, it was a very long way to be negotiated over still-remaining tree stumps and the unfilled holes from which others had been pulled.
He reached the bulldozer and turned south, and at long last reached the highway. His car should be no more than a quarter-mile away. He moved toward it, close to the road's edge. He heard music. It was faint, but vivid because it was the last sound that anybody would expect to hear in the hours before dawn in a wilderness deserted by mankind. He scraped his foot on the roadway.
Undoubtedly Racey would have done Tweezy a mischief had he been given time. But unfortunately Molly Dale came to the lawyer's rescue precisely as she had once come to the rescue of his partner in evil, the bulldozer Lanpher. As it was Racey had contrived to pull Luke Tweezy partly from the saddle when Molly arrived and forced her defender to release his victim.
He heard frantic yelling from above, too, but paid no attention to it; in any Hanson construction program, somebody was always yelling about something that had to be done day before yesterday. It wasn't until he finally became aware of his own name being shouted that he looked up. Then he froze in horror. The bulldozer was teetering at the edge of the cliff as he saw it, right above him.