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Then he went to the engine-room and said abruptly: "Murgatroyd, I'm afraid it's all up with us. We're falling into the Sun, and you know what that means. In a few hours the Astronef will be red-hot. So it's roasting alive or this. I recommend this." "And what might that be, my Lord?" said the old engineer, looking at the bottle which his master held out towards him. "That's morphine poison.
"Day before he did get it," answered Murgatroyd, rapidly thinking over the memoranda which Pratt had jotted down for his benefit. "That," said Prydale, "would be on the 23rd?" "Yes," replied Murgatroyd, "23rd November, of course." "What time, now, on the 23rd?" asked the detective. "Time?" said Murgatroyd. "Oh in the evening." "Bit vague," remarked Prydale. "What time in the evening?"
"They'd find her a pretty tough morsel if they did," laughed Redgrave, "but still we may as well get some steering way on her in case of accident." A few moments later he sent a signal to Murgatroyd in the engine-room. The propellers began to revolve slowly, beating the dense air and driving the Astronef at a speed of about twenty miles an hour through the depths of this strangely peopled ocean.
Then Calhoun suddenly remembered one of the items in the data about cattle he'd looked into just the other day. He felt himself grow pale. "Murgatroyd!" he said sharply. "We've got to catch up! Fast! Stay with me if you can, but " he was jog-trotting as he spoke "even if you get lost I have to hurry!" He ran fifty paces and walked fifty paces. He ran fifty and walked fifty.
These set out that you could get an assisted passage to Canada for so much; to Australia for not much more and if the bills and posters themselves did not tell you all you wanted to know, certain big letters at the foot of each invited you to apply for further information to Mr. R. Murgatroyd, agent, within. And Pratt pushed open the shop-door and walked inside.
"Murgatroyd and I," explained Calhoun and he did not know whether he spoke out of anger or something else "we are do-gooders. We go around trying to keep people from getting killed. It's our profession. We practise it even on our own behalf. We want to stay alive. So since you make such drastic threats, we will take you where you want to go. Especially since we're going there anyhow."
I am his servant, and my fathers have been his fathers' servants for more years than I'd like to count. If it wasn't that way I wouldn't be here. Will your Ladyship please to come down?" Zaidie bowed her beautiful head in recognition of this ages-old devotion, and said as she passed him, more sweetly than he had ever heard human lips speak: "Thank you, Mr. Murgatroyd.
"Milady should go out more, much more, and receive company here." "Perhaps I'll give a series of dinners," said Lady Sellingworth with a smile. And she turned away and went down. Murgatroyd and a footman were waiting for her. On the dining table was a menu telling her what she had to eat, what her cook had been, and was, busy over in the kitchen.
It closed the highway and connected the walls of apartment buildings on either hand. There was a gate in it, and the leading car drew off to one side and the car carrying Calhoun and Murgatroyd ran through, and there was a second barrier ahead, but this was closed. The other cars filed in after it, Calhoun saw that windows in these apartment buildings had been bricked up.
Murgatroyd had no more inherent resistance than a man. "Chee-chee!" he chattered urgently. "Chee-chee-chee!" "It's got him," said Calhoun. He felt sickened. "It'll have me. Because I can't synthesize anything as complex as the computer says is needed to control the molecular population that makes paras!" Murgatroyd chattered again. He was indignant.
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