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“Oh, yes. The Eros newsagency was a Thrush satrap, as you suspected. Our people found complete lists of the scientists and technicians responsible for stealing the Uranium 235 in Marshel’s office safe. We’ve passed the information on to the proper authorities in the countries where the thefts occurred…Good heavens! I seem to have run out of tobacco!” He stared unbelievingly at the empty pouch.

For an instant it trembled on Solo’s lips to point out that there must have been several ounces deployed around the room in the selection of unsmoked pipes littering ashtrays, desk and occasional tables. Then he thought better of it and said quietly, “I’ll see that some is sent in to you, sir, on my way out.” It was, after all, a good thing that human nature was so fallible…

“To be sure, to be sure,” Waverly was saying. “You gentlemen are due for a few days’ leave, are you not? Just how do you propose to spend it?”

“So far as I am concerned,” Kuryakin said with a rare smile, “I must first search my mind for a really good reason to refuse a pressing invitation to visit Bo

.”

Solo gri

ed. “I’m staying home,” he said. “There are a lot of attractions I’ve missed in New York lately. Tonight, for example, I’ve got a ticket for a first-night at El Morocco—they tell me the new middle-eastern belly dancer there is sensational!”


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