United States or Bolivia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
I want you to do an autopsy, and find out how I can kill things by missing them." "How far away was it?" "Call it forty feet; no more." "What were you using, Charley?" Ayesha Keithley called from the table. "Eight-point-five Mars-Consolidated pistol," Loughran said. "I'd laid my shotgun down and walked away from it " "Twelve hundred foot-seconds," Ayesha said. "Bow-wave as well as muzzle-blast."
Gasgoyne, and said in his father's manner as much as possible, for now his mind ran back to how his father talked and acted, forming a standard for him: "My father once told me a tale of the Keithley Hunt something 'away up, as they say in the West and a Mrs. Warren Gasgoyne was in it." He made an instant friend of Mrs. Gasgoyne made her so purposely.
Keithley has been cured of deafness. . . . I have used spectacles for many years, but a touch of his hand was enough to make me have need of them no longer." One of the officials of the Union Pacific Railway, a Mr. Sutherland, after an accident, could neither walk nor move his limbs.
"Bennet Fayon's hoping for a war, or an epidemic, or something to break out, so that he can get a few cadavers to dissect." "Well, he'll find that they're pretty complex," Ayesha Keithley said. "I identified stick-and-slip sounds and percussion sounds, and plucked-string sounds, along with the ordinary hiss-and-buzz speech-sounds. Making a vocoder to reproduce that speech is going to be fun.
It was in the autumn of the year '60 that Doc Keithley, John Rose, Sandy MacDonald, and George Weaver set out from Keithley Creek, which flows into Cariboo Lake, to explore the cup-like valley amid the great peaks which seemed to feed this lake. They toiled up the creek five miles, then followed signs up a dry ravine seven miles farther.
"Well, I'm going to find out," Ayesha Keithley said. "The next time that starts, I'm going to make a recording, and compare it with your voice-recording. I'll give five to one there'll be a similarity." Questell got the foundation for the sonics lab dug, and began pouring concrete. That took water, and the pump ran continuously that afternoon.
"Nothing can make me change my mind," I answered. "It's been made up a whole minute. Everything is clear now. Providence has put a motor-boat into our hands as a means of seeing life, and to console us for not being Captain Noble's heiresses, as Mrs. Keithley wrote we were going to be. I will not fly in Providence's face. I haven't been brought up to it by you.
"But it isn't sensitive or selective enough. I'm going to see what Ayesha Keithley can do about building me a better one." Ayesha was signals and detection officer on the Hubert Penrose. Dave Questell mentioned that she'd had a hard day, and was probably making sack-time, and she wouldn't welcome being called at 0130. Nobody seemed to have realized that it had gotten that late.
Ayesha Keithley was on the screen the next morning while they were eating breakfast. She was a blonde, like Lillian. "I got your message; you seem to have problems, don't you?" "Speaking conservatively, yes. You see what we're up against?" "You don't know what their vocal organs are like, do you?" the girl in naval uniform in the screen asked. Lillian shook her head.
"I'd better post you on a few details," he said. "Ever hear of the Keithley assassination?" I shook my head. "Keithley was the prosecuting attorney in some rather celebrated murder trials. He was shot to death one afternoon as he came out of the court-room." "Yes?" I questioned. "Six months later Con Hoover was shot from the laurel on this road.
Word Of The Day