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Updated: May 17, 2025
He was on the summit: with a sailing leap he launched for me. I could have bounded away, but with a last look to locate the revolver, I braced myself for the shock. The figure hit me. It was small and light in my clutching arms. I recall I saw that Miko was halfway up the stairs. I gripped my assailant. The audiphone contact brought a voice. "Gregg, is it you?" It was Anita! "Gregg, you're safe!"
The audiphone has been recently tried in the Board School for Deaf and Dumb at Turin street, Bethnal Green, with very satisfactory results so satisfactory that the report will recommend its adoption in the four schools which the London Board have erected for the education of the deaf and dumb.
The treasure abandoned, with the brigands coming up and loading it on their ship. Our defeat. In a few hours now or minutes. This crack could slowly widen, or it could break suddenly at any time. Disaster, come now so abruptly upon us at the very start of the brigand attack.... Grantline's voice in my audiphone broke my despairing thoughts. "Bad. Come on, Gregg. Nothing to do here."
I am no fool. I will be careful of it." Spawn, talking by private audiphone, to Perona. The colloquy came to an abrupt end. "... Might eavesdrop? By hell, you are right!" I heard the click as Spawn and Perona broke connection. Spawn came from his room. But he was not quick enough. I slipped away before he saw me. In the living room I had time to be calmly seated with a lighted cigarette.
And then an interior audiphone blared a calling for Grantline. Someone in the instrument room of the adjoining building was talking. "Commander, I tried the telescope to see who got killed " But he did not say who got killed, for he had greater news. "Commander! The brigand ship!" Miko's reinforcements had come. Not Wilks, but Coniston! His drawling, British voice: "You, Gregg Haljan! How nice!"
From the audiphone grid Coniston's voice sounded. "I say, Haljan, something's wrong. Hahn doesn't signal." The lookout in the forward tower was clinging to our window. On the deck below our turret a member of the crew appeared, stood lurching for a moment, then shouted and ran, swaying, aimless. From the lower hull corridors our grids sounded with the tramping of running steps.
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