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Well, she might be returning; and as she could not then say more than she had said, in merely passing without a pause, I concluded to wait for a short time and see what would come of it. After a short time I looked about me a little, and I saw Dickon Hawkes Pegtop, as poor Milly used to call him with an axe in his hand, prowling luridly among the timber.
A musky odor hung low over the hall, sweet, pungent, yet somehow unpleasant. He realized he had experienced that odor before, and tried to remember yes. Last night in the other games parlor he had smelled a wisp of the fragrance, and Hawkes had told him it was a narcotic cigarette. It lay heavy in the stale air of the Class C parlor.
They stepped into it; the door clicked shut automatically behind them. There was a row of blank forms in a metal rack against the inside of the door. Hawkes pulled one out. Alan looked at it. It said, CENTRAL DIRECTORY MATRIX INFORMATION REQUISITION 1067432. Hawkes took a pen from the rack. "We have to fill this out. What's your brother's full name?" "Steve Donnell." He spelled it.
Hawkes dropped a coin in a slot in the robot's side, and the machine bustled away, its service completed. "There you are," Hawkes said, pointing to the glass of amber-colored liquid. "Drink up." As if to set an example he lifted his own drink and tossed it down in one gulp, with obvious pleasure.
He won't be there, he thought; he won't be there. Hawkes took a wad of bills from his wallet. "Here's two hundred credits for you to use at the tables while you're looking around. I'll have to wait outside. There'd be a royal uproar if a Class A man ever set foot inside a place like the Atlas." Alan smiled nervously.
Hawkes says: "The sixth sense, if such it be, probably depends upon three conditions sound, the compression of the air, and whether the face be free to use its sensitive feelers.
But Ellie Hawkes, Grace's big sister, who had kept books in the box factory for three years, was to be married now; a step down for Ellie for her "friend" was only Terry Castle, a brawny, ignorant giant employed by the Express Company but a step up for Grace. She would be a wage-earner; her pretty, weak face grew animated at the thought, and her shrill voice more shrill.
Crowds of home-going Yorkers moved rapidly through the streets. As they made their way to the nearest Undertube terminal, Alan broke the silence. "You did all right tonight, didn't you?" "Can't complain." "It's too bad you had that slump right at the end. If you'd quit half an hour earlier you'd be two hundred credits richer." Hawkes smiled.
But it is said that, by what appears to be a curious reversal of the ordinary rule, the very large steamers are in less danger of running aground than those of smaller dimensions. When the commander stated this canal axiom to the passengers assembled before the starting on the promenade, Uncle Moses objected strenuously to its truth, and Dr. Hawkes warmly supported him.
He forced himself to follow Hawkes' computations as number after number was called off. He began to see the logical pattern of the game. It was a little like astrogation, in which he had had the required preliminary instruction.
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