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289
Astounding Stories of Super-Science, August 1930
·
Various
239
The
plane
roared
on.
Presently
Bell
said
shortly:
"That
stuff
he
has
won't
last
indefinitely.
I'm
glad
I
left
him
that
revolver."
Jamison
stirred
suddenly.
He
dug
down
in
his
pocket
and
fished
out
a
cigar.
"Since
I
feel
that
I
may
live
long
enough
to
finish
smoking
this,"
he
observed
dryly,
"I
think
I'll
light
it.
I
haven't
felt
that
I
had
twenty
minutes
of
life
ahead
of
me
for
a
long
time,
now.
A
sense
of
economy
made
me
smoke
cigarettes.
It
wouldn't
be
so
much
waste
if
you
left
half
a
cigarette
behind
you
when
you
were
killed."
The
tight
little
cabin
began
to
reek
of
the
tobacco.
Paula
pressed
close
to
Bell.
"But--Charles,"
she
asked
hopefully,
"is--is
it
really
all
right,
now?"
"I
think
so,"
said
Bell,
frowning.
"Our
job's
over,
anyhow.
We
go
up
the
Chilean
coast
and
find
that
navy
boat.
We
turn
our
stuff
over
to
them.
They'll
take
over
the
task
of
seeing
that
every
doctor,
everywhere
in
South
America,
knows
how
to
get
The
Master's
poison
out
of
the
system
of
anybody
who's
affected.
Some
of
them
won't
be
reached,
but
most
of
them
will.
I
looked
at
his
formula.
Standard
drugs,
all
of
them.
There
won't
be
any
trouble
getting
the
news
spread.
The
Master's
slaves
will
nearly
go
crazy
with
joy.
And,"
he
added
grimly,
"I'm
going
to
see
to
it
that
the
Rio
police
take
back
what
they
said
about
us.
I
think
we'll
have
enough
pull
to
demand
that
much!"
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