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289
Astounding Stories of Super-Science, August 1930
·
Various
229
Nothing
to
go
on.
But
any
sufficiently
isolated
and
desolate
spot
would
do.
Almost
anywhere
along
the
southern
edge
of
the
continental
islands
should
serve.
The
plane
roared
on
monotonously,
while
Bell
began
to
wrestle
with
another
and
more
serious
problem.
In
three
days--two,
now--an
American
naval
vessel
would
turn
up,
with
scientists
and
chemists
on
board.
It
was
to
be
doubted
whether
anything
like
an
overt
act
would
be
risked
by
that
vessel.
If
all
the
governments
of
South
America
were
under
The
Master's
thumb,
then
cabled
orders
from
his
deputies
would
race
three
navies
to
the
spot.
And
the
government
of
the
United
States
does
not
like
to
start
war,
anywhere.
Certainly
it
would
not
willingly
enter
into
a
conflict
with
the
whole
southern
continent
for
the
solution
of
a
problem
that
so
far
affected
that
continent
alone.
The
Master's
kidnapping
had
solved
nothing,
so
far.
Jamison
tapped
his
shoulder.
"No
pursuit,
so
far,"
he
observed
coolly.
"I've
looked."
Bell
nodded.
"They
don't
dare.
Not
yet,
anyhow.
They're
depending
on
The
Master.
How
is
he?"
"Smiling
peacefully
to
himself,
damn
him!"
snarled
Jamison.
"Do
you
know
what
we're
up
against?"
"Ourselves,"
said
Bell
coldly.
"But
I'm
nearly
licked.
He's
got
to
talk!"
Jamison
moved
away
again.
The
earth
below
looked
as
if
it
had
been
torn
to
shreds
in
some
titanic
convulsion
of
ages
past.
The
sea
was
everywhere,
and
so
was
land!
There
were
little
threads
of
silver
interlacing
and
crossing
and
wavering
erratically
in
every
conceivable
direction.
And
there
were
specks
of
islands--rocks
only
yards
in
extent--and
islands
of
every
imaginable
size
and
shape,
with
their
surfaces
in
every
possible
state
of
upheaval
and
distortion.
A
broader
mass
of
land
appeared
ahead
and
to
the
left.
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