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289
Astounding Stories of Super-Science, August 1930
·
Various
232
Bell
sat
down
and
lighted
a
cigarette
with
fingers
that
did
not
tremble
in
the
least.
"Suppose,"
he
said
hardly,
"you
talk.
First,
of
what
your
poison
is
made.
Second,
of
what
the
antidote
is
made.
Third,
how
we
may
be
sure
you
tell
the
truth."
The
Master
looked
at
him
with
bright,
shrewd,
and
apparently
kindly
old
eyes.
"Hijo
mio,"
he
said
mildly,
"I
am
an
old
man.
But
I
am
obstinate.
I
will
tell
you
nothing."
Bell's
eyes
glowed
coldly.
"Does
it
occur
to
you,"
he
asked
grimly,
"that
it's
too
important
a
matter
for
us
to
have
any
scruples
about?
That
we
can--and
will--make
you
talk?"
"You
may
kill
me,"
said
The
Master
benignly,
"but
that
is
all."
"And,"
said
Bell,
still
more
grimly,
"we
have
only
to
get
back
in
the
plane
yonder,
and
go
away...."
The
Master
beamed
at
him.
Presently
he
began
to
laugh
softly.
"Hijo
mio,"
he
said
gently,
"let
us
stop
this
little
byplay.
You
will
take
me
back
in
my
airplane,
and
you
will
land
me
at
Punta
Arenas.
And
then
you
will
fly
away.
I
concede
you
freedom,
but
that
is
all.
You
cannot
leave
me
here."
"Paula,"
said
Bell
coldly,
"get
in
the
plane
again.
Jamison--"
Paula
rose
doubtfully.
Jamison
stood
up.
The
Master
continued
to
chuckle
amiably.
"You
see,"
he
said
cherubically,
"you
happen
to
be
a
gentleman,
Senor
Bell.
Every
man
has
some
weakness.
That
is
yours.
And
you
will
not
leave
me
here
to
die,
because
you
have
killed
my
nephew,
who
was
the
only
other
man
who
knew
how
to
prepare
my
little
medicine.
And
you
know,
Senor,
that
all
my
subjects
will
wish
to
die.
Those
who
do,
in
fact,"
he
added
mildly,
"will
be
fortunate.
The
effect
of
my
little
medicine
does
not
make
for
happiness
without
its
antidote."
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