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Updated: June 11, 2025
Again they were all silent, but the question was on their faces: Who? "Now we come to the question of motive," Mike continued. "Who among you would have any reason to kill me? "Of the whole group here, I had known only Captain Quill and Commander Jeffers before landing in Antarctica. I couldn't think of any reason for either of them to want to murder me.
It was thus that the boatman, Tobias Jeffers, spoke to his wife Nelle, on board the Guldenvisch. The Guldenvisch, which had been thus named from the pretty gold-fish which shone afore and aft on her prows, was Hendrik Shippe's best boat, and he had entrusted it to the care of Tobias Jeffers, his ablest boatman. There was not a smarter looking craft in Termonde, nor one better fitted for hard work.
When Captain Quill and I checked Mellon's books after his death, someone had returned his copy of The Christian Religion and Symbolic Logic. It had not been there the night before." "Mike," said Pete Jeffers, "why would anybody here want to kill Lew thataway? What would anybody have against him?" "That's the sad part about it, Pete. Our murderer didn't even have anything against Mellon.
Roy, sitting down at his table, pushed aside a half-written page of his novel, and his pen raced over the paper in a headlong letter to Jeffers: an outlet, merely, for his pent-up sensations; and a salve to his conscience. He had neglected Jeffers lately, as well as his novel.
Jeffers called the game "double solitaire for three people," and Keku said it meant "horses' two heads," but Mike had simply found it as a new game to play before bedtime. He looked forward to it. But he had something else to do first. Instead of hanging up his suit in the locker provided, he had bunched it under his arm except for the helmet and now he headed toward maintenance.
Jeffers came up and insisted on betting, but I quickly replied that I did not care to bet, as I was only showing my friend the game so as to guard him against ever betting on it in case he ever saw it being played. Jeffers was so persistent that I finally yielded, at the same time telling him that the odds were so much in my favor that I would not mind venturing.
As Vaneski left, Black Bart preceded Mike into the bridge. Pete Jeffers was on the intercom. As Mike and the captain came in, he was saying, "All right. I'll notify the Officer of the Watch, and we'll search the ship. He can't hide very long." Then, without waiting to say anything to Mike or Quill, he jabbed at another button. "Mister von Liegnitz! Jake!" "Ja? Huh?
Thank God, the soul of a race lives in its books, its philosophy and art." "Very well then" Roy was the speaker, "the obvious remedy lies in getting the souls of both races into closer touch philosophy, art, and all that eh, Jeffers? That's what we're after Dyán and I on the lines of that society Dad belongs to." Broome looked thoughtfully from one to the other. "A tall order," said he.
What is it?" came a fuzzy voice from the speaker. "You all right?" "Me? Sure. I was asleep. Why?" "Be on your toes, sleepyhead; just got word that Mellon has escaped from his stateroom. He may try to take another crack at you." "I'll watch it," said von Liegnitz, his voice crisp now. "Okay." Jeffers sighed and looked up. "As soon as the power came on, the Physician's Mate was on the intercom.
"I hope he reported to the bridge. Commander Jeffers will be getting frantic, but he can't leave the bridge unless he's relieved. Come on, let's move." They sprinted down the companionway. The lights had been out less than five minutes when Mike the Angel and Chief Powerman's Mate Multhaus reached the low-power center of the Power Section.
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