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289
Astounding Stories of Super-Science, August 1930
·
Various
197
He
peered
out
a
tiny
hole
and
aimed
his
automatic
carefully.
It
spurted
out
all
the
seven
shots
that
were
left.
"The
man
who
poisoned
me,"
he
said
pleasantly.
"I
think
he
is
dead.
Go
back
and
make
ready
to
leave,
Senor
Bell,
because
they
will
probably
try
to
storm
this
place
soon,
and
then
the
police
will
come,
and
then....
It
is
amusing
that
I
am
the
one
man
to
whom
those
enslaved
among
the
city
authorities
would
look
for
The
Master's
orders."
Bell
stared
out.
He
saw
a
small
horde
of
people,
frantically
agitated,
milling
in
the
cramped
and
unattractive
little
street
of
Buenos
Aires'
waterfront.
Sheer
desperation
seemed
to
impel
them,
desperation
and
a
frantic
fear.
They
surged
forward--and
Ortiz
flung
a
hand
grenade.
Its
explosion
was
terrific,
but
he
had
perhaps
purposely
flung
it
short.
Bell
suddenly
saw
police
uniforms,
fighting
a
way
through
to
the
front
of
the
crowd
and
the
source
of
all
this
disturbance.
"Go
back,"
said
Ortiz
seriously.
"I
shall
die,
Senor
Bell.
There
is
nothing
else
for
me
to
do.
But
I
wish
to
die
with
Latin
melodrama."
He
managed
a
smile.
"I
will
give
you
ten
minutes
more.
I
can
hold
off
the
police
themselves
for
so
long.
But
you
must
hasten,
because
there
are
police
launches."
He
held
out
his
hand.
Bell
took
it.
"Good
luck,"
said
Ortiz.
"You
can
come--"
began
Bell,
wrenched
by
the
gaiety
on
Ortiz's
face.
"Absurd,"
said
Ortiz,
smiling.
"I
should
be
murder
mad
within
three
days.
This
is
a
preferable
death,
I
assure
you.
Ten
minutes,
no
more!"
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