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The Tracer turned in his chair, picked up the daily detective report, and scanned it until he came to the name Hollis. It appeared that the daily routine of Rosalind Hollis had not varied during the past three weeks.
The only term Thane could think of for their expression was cynical compassion. She sat by a small writing table in one of the traditional, intricately carved chairs of Onzar. "The developments of the past few days, Priestess Selan, are of extreme importance to Onzar and the church. The tracer device has already confirmed our belief that Darzent is preparing to attack.
However, there had been exasperating and unexpected delays in their shipment. Magnus and Harran both had counted upon having the ploughs in their implement barns that very week, but a tracer sent after them had only resulted in locating them, still en route, somewhere between The Needles and Bakersfield. Now there was likelihood of rain within the week.
Harren unlocked a drawer in the table, hesitated, looked strangely at the Tracer. "Mr. Keen," he said, "there is nothing on earth I hold more sacred than this. There is only one thing in the world that could justify me in showing it to a living soul my my desire to find her " "No," said Keen coolly, "that is not enough to justify you the mere desire to find the living original of this apparition.
The aircab she hired to take her to Ceyce had to be paid for in advance, which left her eighty-two crowns. As they went flying over a lake a while later, the bag with the sporting clothes and accessories was dumped out of the cab's rear window. It was just possible that the Space Scouts had been able to put that tracer material idea to immediate use.
Captain Harren, extremely pink, stood tugging at his short mustache and studying the papers on the desk. "Well?" inquired the Tracer, amused. The young man pointed to the translation with unsteady finger. "W-what on earth does that mean?" he demanded shakily. "Who is Edith Inwood? W-what on earth does that cryptogram mean on the window pane in the photograph? How did it come there?
I traced the white men to the coast. They sailed on the Scythian Queen, taking with them all that I care for on earth or in heaven! And you ask me why I measure their distance from me by a bullet's flight!" The Tracer also rose, pale and grave. "Wait!" he said. "There are other things to be done before you prepare to face a jury for double murder." "It is for them to choose," said Burke.
He was frowning and his lips were drawn and his cheeks mottled with red in a way not pleasant to see. Stiffening in his chair, a flash of desperation in his eye, Bouchard's bony, long hand gripped the table edge. Every one felt that a sensation was coming. "Yes, I have known that there was a leak!" he said with hoarse, painful deliberation. "I have sent out every possible tracer.
"By all means, Mr. Carden. You will find it there in my bedroom." So he entered her pretty bedroom and, closing the door tightly, called up the Tracer of Lost Persons. "Is that you, Mr. Keen? This is Mr. Carden. I'm head over heels in love. I simply must win her, and I'm going to try. If I don't if she will not listen to me I'll certainly go to smash.
Why, I've even seen it on the brilliant wings of tropical insects. It's got on my nerves. I dream about it." "And you buy books about it and try to work out its mystical meaning?" suggested the Tracer, smiling. But Harren's gray eyes were serious. He said: "She never comes to me without that symbol somewhere about her. . . . I told you she never spoke to me.
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