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t to his feet, dug out the bandanna and mopped at his face. He heard the soft thud of the step behind him and turned his head. It was the tracker."It's all right, Sipar," he said. "You can quit worrying. I got it. We can go home now." * * * * * It had been a long, hard chase, longer than he had thought it might be. But it had been successful and that was the thing that counted. For the moment, the vua crop was safe. He tucked the bandanna back into his pocket, went down the

gave Tom a hug and greeted Bud warmly. Over the delicious dinner, the conversation turned to the mysterious thief missile."Who on earth could have fired it?" Sandy asked. Tom shrugged. "No telling--yet. There's more than one unfriendly country which would give a lot for the data picked up on our Jupiter shot." "You aren't expecting more trouble, are you?" Phyl put in uneasily. Tom passed the question off lightly in order not to alarm his mother and the two girls.

The cruiser vanished back into hyperspace and he was alone in the observation bubble, ten thousand light-years beyond the galaxy's outermost sun. He looked out the windows at the gigantic sea of emptiness around him and wondered again what the danger had been that had so terrified the men before him.Of one thing he was already certain; he would find that nothing was waiting outside the bubble to kill him. The first bubble attendant had committed suicide and the second was a mindless maniac on

n purple ink beneath the name and address of Mynheer van Urutius ... that was all.My heart sank with disappointment and wretchedness as I read the inscription. Here is the document: * * * * * Herr Willem van Urutius, Automobilgeschäft, Nymwegen. Alexandtr-Straat 81 bis. Berlin, Iten Juli, 16. O Eichenholz! O Eichenholz! Wie leer sind deine Blätter. Wie Achiles in dem Zelte. Wo zweie sich zanken Erfreut sich der Dritte. * * * * * (Translation.) Mr. Willem van Urutius, Automobile Agent, Nymwegen.

y and commandingly: "O come on!" The general effort that succeeded took them round, and so at last they reached the back door, where the leader and a disturbed old woman whom Anthony assumed to be the housekeeper were waiting."Upstairs," she said, "to his own bedroom. Look, I'll show you. Dear, dear. O do be careful"--and so on till at last Berringer was laid on his bed, and, still under the directions of the housekeeper, undressed and got into it. "I've

is does not, as might be supposed, expose society to theintrusion of unwelcome visitors. Tact, which is the only guidethrough the mazes of society, will enable a woman to avoidanything like an unwelcome intimacy or a doubtful acquaintance,even if such a person should "call first."Now the question comes up, and here doctors disagree: When may alady call by proxy, or when may she send her card, or when mustshe call in person? After a dinner-party a guest must call in person and inquire

Blaine, have been selected referee because, bein' from Chawed Ear, I got no prejudices either way. Are you all ready? Time!"MCVEY HAULED ME OFF my stool and pulled off my bathrobe and pushed me out into the ring. I nearly died with embarrassment, but I seen the fellow they called O'Tool didn't have on more clothes than me. He approached and held out his hand, so I held out mine. We shook hands and then without no warning, he hit me an awful lick on the jaw with his left. It was like being

dging assistance from the Austen family, to pay off her husband's debts, and to give to all her younger children a decent education at a school at Sevenoaks; the eldest boy (the future squire) being taken off her hands by his grandfather.[6] Elizabeth left behind her not only elaborately kept accounts but also a minute description of her actions through many years and of the motives which governed them. It may be interesting to quote one sentence relating to her move from Horsmonden to

The outer door was locked and he paused on the sidewalk, wondering how to get in.This problem was settled for him as a woman crossed the small entrance and pushed open the ground glass door. She was blond, with the enameled finish of Max Factor and the House of Westmore, neatly turned out. She gave Lennox a speculative look, but he was too busy catching the door to give her more than a passing glance. The entry was small and tiled. An automatic elevator and a stairway which looped like a