Its muffled roar began to echo
out over the star-flecked waters. The Master threw a scornful glance
at it. He turned in his seat, and peered at the shimmer of the city's
lights, strung like a luminous rosary along the river's edge. Then
he looked up at the roseate flush on the sky, flung there by the
metropolis as from the mouth of a crucible.
"Child's play!" he murmured. "All this coming and going in
crowded streets, all this fighting for bread, and scheming over
pennies--child's play. Less than that--the blind swarming of ants!
Tomorrow, where will all this be, for us?"
He turned back and thrust over the spokes. The launch drew in toward
the Jersey shore.
"Let the engines run at half-speed," he directed, "and control her now
with the clutch."
"Yes, sir!"
The aviator's voice was sharp, precise, determined. The Master nodded
to himself with satisfaction. This man, he felt, would surely be a
valued member of the crew. He might prove more than that. There might
be stuff in him that could be molded to executive ability, in case
that should be necessary.
The launch, now at half-speed, nosed her way directly toward the
cliff. Sounds from shore began to grow audible Afar, an auto siren
shrieked.
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