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289
Astounding Stories of Super-Science, August 1930
·
Various
215
It
was
then
that
Jamison
got
a
shock
surpassing
all
the
rest.
Bell's
hands
were
writhing
at
the
ends
of
his
wrists,
writhing
as
if
they
were
utterly
beyond
his
control
and
as
if
they
were
longing
to
rend
and
tear....
And
Bell
suddenly
looked
down
at
them,
and
his
expression
was
that
of
a
man
who
sees
cobras
at
the
ends
of
his
arms.
CHAPTER
XVII
There
was
a
long
pause.
Bell
was
very
calm.
He
seemed
to
tear
his
eyes
from
the
writhing
hands
that
were
peculiarly
sensate,
as
if
under
the
control
of
in
intelligence
alien
to
his
own.
"I
believe,"
said
Bell
steadily,
"that
The
Master
wishes
to
speak
to
me."
With
an
apparent
tremendous
effort
of
will,
he
thrust
his
hands
into
his
pockets.
Jamison
cursed
softly.
Bell
had
taken
the
direction
of
things
entirely
out
of
his
hands.
It
only
remained
to
play
up.
"To
be
sure,"
said
a
mild,
benevolent
voice.
The
man
with
the
snowy
beard
regarded
Bell
exactly
in
the
fashion
of
an
elderly
philanthropist.
"I
am
The
Master,
Senor
Bell.
You
have
interested
me
greatly.
I
have
grown
to
have
a
great
admiration
for
you.
Will
you
be
seated?
Your
companion
also
pleases
me.
I
would
like"--and
the
mild
brown
eyes
beamed
at
him--"I
would
like
to
have
your
friendship,
Senor
Bell."
"Pull
out
a
chair
for
me,
Jamison,"
said
Bell
in
a
strained
voice.
"And--I'd
like
to
have
a
cigarette."
Jamison,
cursing
under
his
breath,
put
a
chair
behind
Bell
and
stuck
a
cigarette
between
his
lips.
He
held
a
match,
though
his
hands
shook.
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