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The innocent looking parcel which Anne had rashly supposed to contain Mrs. Hiram's nut cakes really held an assortment of firecrackers and pinwheels for which Warren Sloane had sent to town by St. Clair Donnell's father the day before, intending to have a birthday celebration that evening.
Captain Donnell's shrill whistle sounded, and he cupped his hands to call out, "The copters are here!" Alan watched the little squadron of gray jetcopters settle to the ground, rotors slowing, and headed forward along with the rest of the Crew. The copters would take them from the bare landing field of the spaceport to the Enclave, where they would spend the next six days.
'Well, he said finally, 'I can't spell it but I know what it means. "'What? I asked. "'St. Clair Donnell's face, miss. "St. Clair is certainly very much freckled, although I try to prevent the others from commenting on it . . . for I was freckled once and well do I remember it. But I don't think St. Clair minds. It was because Jimmy called him 'St. Clair' that St.
Alan frowned and his stomach went cold. He wished the unpleasant topic of his brother had not come up. "You think there's any chance Steve will come back, this time down? Will we be in port long enough for him to find us?" Captain Donnell's face clouded. "We're going to be on Earth for almost a week," he said in a suddenly harsh voice. "That's ample time for Steve to rejoin us, if he cares to.
Something that looked like pain came into Captain Donnell's eyes, but only for an instant. He smiled. "It's strange, seeing the two of you like this. So you brought back Steve, eh? We'll have to put him back on the roster. Why is he asleep? He looks like he's out cold." "He is. It's a long story, Dad." "You'll have to explain it to me later, then after blastoff." Alan shook his head. "No, Dad.
edward blake ClaY." "St. Clair Donnell's is, as usual, short and to the point. St. Clair never wastes words. I do not think he chose his subject or added the postscript out of malice aforethought. It is just that he has not a great deal of tact or imagination." "'Dear Miss Shirley "'You told us to describe something strange we have seen. I will describe the Avonlea Hall.
Think of the changes it would mean in Starman society! No more no more permanent separations if someone decides to leave his ship for a while." Alan understood what his father meant. Suddenly he saw the reason for Captain Donnell's abrupt growth of interest in the development of a hyperdrive. It's Steve that's on his mind, Alan thought.
He displayed before the astonished eyes of Nelly Lebrun a paper covered with an exact duplicate of her own swift, dainty script. And she read: Nick is terribly angry and is making trouble. I have to get away. It isn't safe for me to stay here. Will you help me? Will you meet me at the shack by Donnell's ford tomorrow morning at ten o'clock? "But I didn't write it," cried Nelly Lebrun, bewildered.
Alan remembered his father's hard, grim expression as he had been told the story. Captain Donnell's reaction had been curt, immediate, and thoroughly typical: he had nodded, closed the roll book, and turned to Art Kandin, the Valhalla's First Officer and the Captain's second-in-command. "Remove Crewman Donnell from the roster," he had snapped. "All other hands are on board. Prepare for blastoff."
"I should like to go up and see your aunt," said I. "You know she asked me to come the other day when she was here. "I'd like to go," said Georgie sedately. "Father was going up this week; but the mackerel struck in, and we couldn't leave. But it's better'n six miles up there." "That's not far," said I. "I'm going to have Captain Donnell's horse and wagon;" and Georgie looked much interested.
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