Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 3, 2025
A couple of pieces of apparatus, a chemical tank and a pumper marked SALAMANDER VOLUNTEER FIRE COMPANY NO. 3 came along, veered out of the jam, and continued uptown. "If they know another way down, maybe we'd better follow them," Murell suggested. "They're not going down. They're going to the lumber plant, in case the fire spreads upward," I said.
I'd put away my pencil and pad long ago with Murell; now I got them out ostentatiously as I approached. "Good day, gentlemen," I greeted them. "I'm representing the Port Sandor Times." "Oh, run along, sonny; we haven't time to bother with you," Hallstock said. "But I want to get a story from Mr. Belsher," I began.
That puzzled Oscar, till I explained that "thirty" is newsese for "the end." "I guess Walt's right. Ravick would do anything to prevent that." He thought for a moment. "Joe, you were using the wrong strategy. You should have let Ravick get that thirty-five centisol price established for the Co-operative, and then had Murell offer seventy-five or something like that." "You crazy?" Joe demanded.
I whispered to Murell. "We just came along for the ride." "I don't want the money," he said. "These people need every cent they can get." So did I, for that matter, and I didn't have salary and expense account from a big company on Terra. However, I hadn't come along in the expectation of making anything out of it, and a newsman has to be careful about the outside money he picks up.
Oscar and Professor Hartzenbosch and Dad and a couple of others were planning some sort of an observation force of a few men for each place, until the fire had been gotten out or under control. Glenn Murell decided he'd go out with me, at least as far as the fire, so we went down to the vehicle port and got the jeep out.
It took Sigurd Ngozori a couple of minutes to see the point, but then, hanging Steve Ravick wasn't going to cost the Fidelity & Trust Company anything. "Well, this isn't my party," Glenn Murell said, "but I'm too much of a businessman to see how watching somebody kick on the end of a rope is worth four million sols."
Fieschi; he says he knows this is an emergency, but there's a strict company directive against using the spaceport area for storage of anything but cargo that has either just come in or is being shipped out on the next ship." "What's this all about?" Murell asked. "Fieschi, at the spaceport, won't let us store this wax in the spaceport area," Joe said.
"I guess that's about the size of it," Joe Kivelson conceded. "How close to land are we?" "The radar isn't getting anything but open water and schools of fish," Abe Clifford said. "For all I know, we could be inside Sancerre Bay now." "Well, then, why don't we surface?" Murell continued.
That would have been a nice business; story would have gotten back to Terra, and been most unfortunate publicity for Fenris. And, of course," he afterthoughted, "most unfortunate for Mr. Murell, too." "Well, if you give this any publicity, I would rather you passed my own trifling exploit over in silence," Bish said.
He saw us and waved to us, and then suddenly the spaceport cop's face got as white as my shirt and he grabbed Bish by the arm. Bish didn't change color; he just shook off the cop's hand, got to his feet, dropped his cigar, and took a side skip out into the aisle. "Murell!" he yelled. "Freeze! On your life; don't move a muscle!" Then there was a gun going off in his hand.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking