September 24, 2025 • 17 mins
Step into a world where a machine, adorned with blinking lights and the scent of ozone, enters the prestigious Grand Master chess tournament. This early computer faces off against some of the greatest human minds, challenging the notion of genius with its formidable calculating power. But don‚At be fooled‚Aîthe machine is not infallible. It can be deceived, make errors, and most intriguingly, it can learn! Join us on this thrilling journey through the intersection of technology and human intellect. (summary by phil c and the publisher)
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Part two of the sixty four Square Medhouse by Fritz Leiber.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Part two
bribes Doc. They all sound like they were Russians, Sandra said,
after a bit, except this Willie Angler. Oh he's the boy. Wonder,
isn't he? Doc nodded. Not such a boy any longer,
(00:23):
though he's well speak of the devil's children, Miss Greeling.
I have the honor of presenting to you the only
grandmaster ever to have been ex chess Champion of the
United States while still technically a miner master, William Augustus Engler.
A tall, sharply dressed young man with a hatchet face,
(00:44):
pressed the old man back into his chair. Oh are
you savvy, old boy? Oh boy, he demanded, still chasing
the girls. I see Please, Willie, get off me. Can't
take it. Huh. Angler straightened up somewhat. Hey waiter, where's
that chocolate malt? I don't want it next year? About
that X though, I will swindle savvy, I was robbed Willie,
(01:10):
Doc said with some asperity. Miss Grayling is a journalist.
She would like to have a statement from you as
to how you will play against the machine. Angler grinned
and shook his head sadly. Poor old machine, he said,
I don't know why they take so much trouble polishing
up that pile of tin just so that I can
(01:30):
give it a hit in the head. I got a
hatful of moves. It'll burn out all its tubes. Trying
to answer, and if he gets too fresh, how about
you and me giving its low temperature section the hot
foot savvy. The money wbm's putting up is okay, though
the first prize will just fit the big hole in
my bank account. I know you haven't the time now,
(01:53):
Master Angler, Sandra said rapidly, but if after the playing
session you could grant me. Sorry, babe, Angler broke in
with a wave of dismissal. I'm dated up for two
months in advance. Waiter, I'm over here, not there, and
he went charging off. Doc and Sandra looked at each
other and smiled. Chess masters aren't exactly humble people, are they,
(02:18):
she said. Doc smile became tinged with sad understanding. You
must excuse them, though, he said, they really get so
little recognition or recompense. This tournament is an exception, and
it takes a great deal of ego to play greatly.
I suppose so. So World Business Machines is responsible for
(02:40):
this tournament. Correct, Their advertising department is interested in the prestige.
They want to score a point over their great rival.
But if the machine plays badly, it will be a
black eye for them, Sandra pointed out. True, Doc agreed thoughtfully.
WBM must feel very sure. It is the prize money
(03:02):
they've put up, of course, that's brought the world's greatest
players here, Otherwise half of them would be holding off
in the best temperamental artist style for chess players. The
prize money is fabulous, thirty five thousand dollars with fifteen
thousand for first place and all expenses paid for all players.
(03:24):
There's never been anything like it. Soviet Russia is the
only country that has ever supported and rewarded her best
chess players at all adequately. I think the Russian players
are here because UNESCO and FIE Day that's Federation Internationality
is Check, the International Chess Organization are also backing the tournament,
(03:45):
and perhaps because the Kremlin is hungry for a little
prestige now that its space program is sagging. But if
a Russian doesn't take first place, it will be a
black eye for them. Doc frowned, true, in a sense,
they must feel very sure here they are. Now. Four
men were crossing the center of the hall, which was
(04:07):
clearing toward the tables at the other end. Doubtless they
just happened to be going two by two in close formation,
but it gave Sandra the feeling of a phalanx. The
first two are Lesmoff and what Binnick. Doc told her
it isn't often that you see the current champion of
the world. What Binnick and an ex champion arm in arm.
(04:30):
There are two other persons in the tournament who have
held that honor, Jahal and Vanderhoff the director way back.
Will whoever wins this tournament become champion? Oh no, that's
decided by two player matches, a very long business after
elimination tournaments between leading contenders. This tournament is a round robin.
(04:53):
Each player plays one game with every other player. That
means nine rounds. Anyway, there are an awful lot of
Russians in the tournament, Sandra said, consulting her program. Four
out of five have ussr after them, and Bella Grabo
hungry that's the satellite and Sharewski and Krakatawer are Russian
(05:13):
sounding names. The proportion of Soviet to American entries in
the tournament represents pretty fairly the general difference in playing
strength between the two countries. Doc said judiciously, chess mastery
moves from land to land with the years. Way back,
it was the Moslems of the Hindus and Persians, then
(05:33):
Italy and Spain. A little over one hundred years ago,
it was France and England, then Germany, Austria and the
New World. Now it's Russia, including of course the Russians
who have run away from Russia. But don't think there
aren't a lot of good Anglo Saxon types who are
masters of the first water. In fact, there are a
(05:54):
lot of them here around us, though perhaps you don't
think so. It's just that if you play a lot
of you get to looking Russian once. It probably made
you look Italian. Do you see that short, bald headed man,
you mean, the one facing the machine and talking to
John Darf Yes, now that's one with a lot of
(06:14):
human interest. Moses Sharewsky been Champion of the United States
many times. A very strict Orthodox Jew can't play chess
on Fridays. Or on Saturdays before sundown. He chuckled, Why
there's even a story going around that one rabbi told
Sharewski would be unlawful for him to play against the
machine because it is technically a golum, the clay Frankenstein's
(06:39):
Monster of Hebrew legend. Sandra asked, what about Grabbo and Krakatawer.
Doc gave a short, scornful laugh. Krakatawer, don't pay any
attention to him. A senile has been It's a scandal
he's been allowed to play in this tournament. He must
have pulled all sorts of strengths, told them that his
(07:01):
life long services to chess had won him the honor,
and that they had to have a member of the
so called old Guard. Maybe he even got down on
his knees and cried, and all the time his eyes
on that expense money and the last place consolation prize,
yet dreaming schizophrenically of beating them all. Please don't get
(07:24):
me started on dirty old Krakataer. Take it easy, Doc,
he sounds like he would make an interesting article. Can
you point him out to me? You can tell him
by his long white beard with coffee stains. I don't
see it anywhere, though perhaps he shaved it off for
the occasion. It would be like that antique womanizer to
(07:46):
develop senile delusions of youthfulness, and Grabo said, repressed, suppressing
a smile at the intensity of Doc's animosity. Doc's eyes
grew thoughtful about Bella, Grabbo. Why are three out of
four Hungarians named Bella? I will tell you only this
(08:07):
that he is a very brilliant player, and that the
machine is very lucky to have drawn him as its
first opponent. He would not amplify his statement. Sandrus studied
the scoreboard again. This Simon great whose noun is programming
the machine? He's a famous physicist. I suppose, by no
(08:28):
means that was the trouble with some of the early
chess playing machines. They were programmed by scientists. No, Simon
Graat is a psychologist who at one time was a
leading contender for the World's chess Championship. I think WBM
was surprisingly shrewd to pick him for the programming job.
(08:49):
Let me tell you no better yet. Doc shot to
his feet, stretched an arm on high, and called out sharply, Simon.
A man some four tables away waved back, and a
moment later came over. What is it, civilly, he asked,
there's hardly any time, you know. The newcomer was of
middle height, compact of figure and feature, with graying hair,
(09:12):
cut short and comb sharply back. Doc spoke his piece
for Sandra Simon. Great smiled thinly. Sorry, he said, but
I am making no predictions and we are giving out
no advanced information on the programming of the machine. As
you know, I have had to fight the player's committee
tooth and nail on all sorts of points about that,
(09:34):
and they have won most of them. I am not
permitted to reprogram the machine at adjournments, only between games.
I did insist on that and get it. And if
the machine breaks down during a game, it's clock keeps
running on it. My men are permitted to make repairs
if they can work fast enough. That makes it very
(09:55):
tough on you, Sandra put in. The machine isn't allowed
any weaknesses. Great nodded soberly, and now I must go.
They've almost finished the countdown, as one of my technicians
keeps on calling it very pleased to have met you,
miss Grayling. I'll check with our pr man on that interview.
Be seeing you, Savvey. The tiers of seats were filled now,
(10:18):
and the central space all most clear officials were showing
off a few knots of lingerers. Several of the grand masters,
including all four Russians, were seated at their tables. Press
and Company cameras were flashing. The four smaller wallboards lit
up with the pieces in the opening position white for
white and red for black. Simon Grat stepped over the
(10:42):
red velvet cord and more flashed bulbs went off. You know,
Doc Sandra said, I'm a dog to suggest this, but
what if this whole thing were a big fake? What
if Simon Grat were really playing the machine's moves? There
would surely be some way for his electricians to rig.
Doc laughed happily and so loudly that some people at
(11:04):
the adjourning tables frowned. Miss Grayling. That is a wonderful idea.
I will probably steal it for a short story I
still manage to write and place a few in England. No,
I do not think that is at all likely. WBM
would never risk such a fraud. Bret is completely out
(11:25):
of practice for actual tournament play, though not for chess thinking.
The difference in style between a computer and a man
would be evident. To end the expert great zone style
is remembered and would be recognized. Though, come to think
of it, his style was often described as being machine like.
For a moment, Doc's eyes became thoughtful, then he smiled again.
(11:49):
But no, the idea is impossible. Vanderhoff, as tournament director,
has played two or three games with the machine to
assure himself that it operates legitimately and has grandmaster skill.
Did the machine beat him, Sandra asked, Doc shrugged. These
scores weren't released. It was all very hush hush. But
(12:10):
about your idea, miss Grayling, did you ever read about
Mozelle's famous chess playing automaton of the nineteenth century. That one,
too was supposed to work by machinery, cogs and gears,
not electricity, but actually it had a man hidden inside it.
Your Edgar Poe exposed the fraud in a famous article.
(12:32):
In my story, I think the chess robot will break
down while it is being demonstrated to a millionaire purchaser,
and the young inventor will have to win its game
for it to cover up and swing the deal. Only
the millionaire's daughter, who is really a better player than
either of them. Yes, yes, Ambrose Beers too wrote a
(12:53):
story about a chess playing robot of the clickety clank
gir kind who murdered his creator, rushing him like an
iron grizzly bear when the man won a game from him.
Tell me, miss Grayling, do you find yourself imagining this
machine putting out angry tendrils to strangle his opponents, or
(13:13):
being raised of death and hypnotism at them? I can imagine.
While Doc chatted happily on about chess playing robots and
chess stories, Sandra found herself thinking about him. A writer
of some sort, evidently, and a terrific chess buff. Perhaps
he was an actual medical doctor. She'd read something about
(13:36):
two or three coming over with the Russian squad. But
Doc certainly didn't sound like a Soviet citizen. He was
older than she'd first assumed. She could see now that
she was listening to him less and looking at him
more tired too. Only his dark circled eyes shone with
unquenchable youth. A useful old guy, whoever he was. An
(14:00):
hour ago, she'd been sure she was going to muff
this assignment completely, and now she had it laid out cold.
For the empteenth time in her career. Sandra shied away
from the guilty thought that she wasn't a writer at all,
or even a reporter. She just used dime a dozen
female attractiveness to rope a susceptible man, young, old American
(14:24):
Russian and pick his brain. She realized suddenly that the
whole hall had become very quiet. Doc was the only
person still talking, and people were again looking at them disapprovingly.
All five wallboards were lit up, and the changed position
of a few pieces showed that opening moves had been
(14:44):
made on four of them, including the machines. The central
space between the tiers of seats was completely clear now,
except for one man hurrying across it in their direction,
with a rapid yet quiet, almost tiptoe walk that seemed
to mark all the officials like Mortician's assistance, she thought.
(15:05):
He rapidly mounted the stairs and halted at the top
to look around searchingly. His cays like it on their table.
His eyebrows went up, and he made a beeline for Doc.
Sandra wondered if she should warn him that he was
about to be shushed. The official laid a hand on
Doc's shoulder, Sir, he said, agitatedly, do you realize they've
(15:27):
started your clock, Doctor Krakatower. Sandra became aware that Doc
was grinning at her. Yes, it's true enough, miss Greeling,
he said, I trust you will pardon the deception, though
it was hardly won. Even technically, every word I told
you about dirty old Krakatawer is literally true, except the
(15:49):
long white beard. He never wore a beard after he
was thirty five. That part was it out and outline. Yes, yes,
I will be along in a minute. Do not worry.
The spectators will get their money's worth out of me,
and WBM did not with its expense account. By my soul,
that belongs to the young lady here. Doc Rose lifted
(16:12):
her hand and kissed it. Thank you, mademoiselle, for a
charming interlude. I hope it will be repeated. Incidentally, I
should say that besides stop pulling at me, man, there
can't be five minutes on my clock yet that besides
being dirty Old Krakatawer, Grandmaster Emeritus, I am also the
(16:34):
special correspondent of the London Times. It is always pleasant
to chat with the colleague. Please do not hesitate to
use in your articles any of the ideas I tossed out,
if you find them worthy, I sent in my own
dispatch two hours ago. Yes, yes, I come Au revoir, mademoiselle.
(16:54):
He was at the bottom of the stairs when Sandrid
jumped up and hurried to the balustrade. Hey, doc, she called.
He turned good luck, she shouted and waved. He kissed
his hand to her and went on. People glared at
her then, and a horrified official came hurrying. Sandram made big,
(17:14):
frightened eyes at him, but she couldn't quite hide her grin.
End of Part two.
Part two of the sixty four Square Medhouse by Fritz Leiber.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Part two
bribes Doc. They all sound like they were Russians, Sandra said,
after a bit, except this Willie Angler. Oh he's the boy. Wonder,
isn't he? Doc nodded. Not such a boy any longer,
(00:23):
though he's well speak of the devil's children, Miss Greeling.
I have the honor of presenting to you the only
grandmaster ever to have been ex chess Champion of the
United States while still technically a miner master, William Augustus Engler.
A tall, sharply dressed young man with a hatchet face,
(00:44):
pressed the old man back into his chair. Oh are
you savvy, old boy? Oh boy, he demanded, still chasing
the girls. I see Please, Willie, get off me. Can't
take it. Huh. Angler straightened up somewhat. Hey waiter, where's
that chocolate malt? I don't want it next year? About
that X though, I will swindle savvy, I was robbed Willie,
(01:10):
Doc said with some asperity. Miss Grayling is a journalist.
She would like to have a statement from you as
to how you will play against the machine. Angler grinned
and shook his head sadly. Poor old machine, he said,
I don't know why they take so much trouble polishing
up that pile of tin just so that I can
(01:30):
give it a hit in the head. I got a
hatful of moves. It'll burn out all its tubes. Trying
to answer, and if he gets too fresh, how about
you and me giving its low temperature section the hot
foot savvy. The money wbm's putting up is okay, though
the first prize will just fit the big hole in
my bank account. I know you haven't the time now,
(01:53):
Master Angler, Sandra said rapidly, but if after the playing
session you could grant me. Sorry, babe, Angler broke in
with a wave of dismissal. I'm dated up for two
months in advance. Waiter, I'm over here, not there, and
he went charging off. Doc and Sandra looked at each
other and smiled. Chess masters aren't exactly humble people, are they,
(02:18):
she said. Doc smile became tinged with sad understanding. You
must excuse them, though, he said, they really get so
little recognition or recompense. This tournament is an exception, and
it takes a great deal of ego to play greatly.
I suppose so. So World Business Machines is responsible for
(02:40):
this tournament. Correct, Their advertising department is interested in the prestige.
They want to score a point over their great rival.
But if the machine plays badly, it will be a
black eye for them, Sandra pointed out. True, Doc agreed thoughtfully.
WBM must feel very sure. It is the prize money
(03:02):
they've put up, of course, that's brought the world's greatest
players here, Otherwise half of them would be holding off
in the best temperamental artist style for chess players. The
prize money is fabulous, thirty five thousand dollars with fifteen
thousand for first place and all expenses paid for all players.
(03:24):
There's never been anything like it. Soviet Russia is the
only country that has ever supported and rewarded her best
chess players at all adequately. I think the Russian players
are here because UNESCO and FIE Day that's Federation Internationality
is Check, the International Chess Organization are also backing the tournament,
(03:45):
and perhaps because the Kremlin is hungry for a little
prestige now that its space program is sagging. But if
a Russian doesn't take first place, it will be a
black eye for them. Doc frowned, true, in a sense,
they must feel very sure here they are. Now. Four
men were crossing the center of the hall, which was
(04:07):
clearing toward the tables at the other end. Doubtless they
just happened to be going two by two in close formation,
but it gave Sandra the feeling of a phalanx. The
first two are Lesmoff and what Binnick. Doc told her
it isn't often that you see the current champion of
the world. What Binnick and an ex champion arm in arm.
(04:30):
There are two other persons in the tournament who have
held that honor, Jahal and Vanderhoff the director way back.
Will whoever wins this tournament become champion? Oh no, that's
decided by two player matches, a very long business after
elimination tournaments between leading contenders. This tournament is a round robin.
(04:53):
Each player plays one game with every other player. That
means nine rounds. Anyway, there are an awful lot of
Russians in the tournament, Sandra said, consulting her program. Four
out of five have ussr after them, and Bella Grabo
hungry that's the satellite and Sharewski and Krakatawer are Russian
(05:13):
sounding names. The proportion of Soviet to American entries in
the tournament represents pretty fairly the general difference in playing
strength between the two countries. Doc said judiciously, chess mastery
moves from land to land with the years. Way back,
it was the Moslems of the Hindus and Persians, then
(05:33):
Italy and Spain. A little over one hundred years ago,
it was France and England, then Germany, Austria and the
New World. Now it's Russia, including of course the Russians
who have run away from Russia. But don't think there
aren't a lot of good Anglo Saxon types who are
masters of the first water. In fact, there are a
(05:54):
lot of them here around us, though perhaps you don't
think so. It's just that if you play a lot
of you get to looking Russian once. It probably made
you look Italian. Do you see that short, bald headed man,
you mean, the one facing the machine and talking to
John Darf Yes, now that's one with a lot of
(06:14):
human interest. Moses Sharewsky been Champion of the United States
many times. A very strict Orthodox Jew can't play chess
on Fridays. Or on Saturdays before sundown. He chuckled, Why
there's even a story going around that one rabbi told
Sharewski would be unlawful for him to play against the
machine because it is technically a golum, the clay Frankenstein's
(06:39):
Monster of Hebrew legend. Sandra asked, what about Grabbo and Krakatawer.
Doc gave a short, scornful laugh. Krakatawer, don't pay any
attention to him. A senile has been It's a scandal
he's been allowed to play in this tournament. He must
have pulled all sorts of strengths, told them that his
(07:01):
life long services to chess had won him the honor,
and that they had to have a member of the
so called old Guard. Maybe he even got down on
his knees and cried, and all the time his eyes
on that expense money and the last place consolation prize,
yet dreaming schizophrenically of beating them all. Please don't get
(07:24):
me started on dirty old Krakataer. Take it easy, Doc,
he sounds like he would make an interesting article. Can
you point him out to me? You can tell him
by his long white beard with coffee stains. I don't
see it anywhere, though perhaps he shaved it off for
the occasion. It would be like that antique womanizer to
(07:46):
develop senile delusions of youthfulness, and Grabo said, repressed, suppressing
a smile at the intensity of Doc's animosity. Doc's eyes
grew thoughtful about Bella, Grabbo. Why are three out of
four Hungarians named Bella? I will tell you only this
(08:07):
that he is a very brilliant player, and that the
machine is very lucky to have drawn him as its
first opponent. He would not amplify his statement. Sandrus studied
the scoreboard again. This Simon great whose noun is programming
the machine? He's a famous physicist. I suppose, by no
(08:28):
means that was the trouble with some of the early
chess playing machines. They were programmed by scientists. No, Simon
Graat is a psychologist who at one time was a
leading contender for the World's chess Championship. I think WBM
was surprisingly shrewd to pick him for the programming job.
(08:49):
Let me tell you no better yet. Doc shot to
his feet, stretched an arm on high, and called out sharply, Simon.
A man some four tables away waved back, and a
moment later came over. What is it, civilly, he asked,
there's hardly any time, you know. The newcomer was of
middle height, compact of figure and feature, with graying hair,
(09:12):
cut short and comb sharply back. Doc spoke his piece
for Sandra Simon. Great smiled thinly. Sorry, he said, but
I am making no predictions and we are giving out
no advanced information on the programming of the machine. As
you know, I have had to fight the player's committee
tooth and nail on all sorts of points about that,
(09:34):
and they have won most of them. I am not
permitted to reprogram the machine at adjournments, only between games.
I did insist on that and get it. And if
the machine breaks down during a game, it's clock keeps
running on it. My men are permitted to make repairs
if they can work fast enough. That makes it very
(09:55):
tough on you, Sandra put in. The machine isn't allowed
any weaknesses. Great nodded soberly, and now I must go.
They've almost finished the countdown, as one of my technicians
keeps on calling it very pleased to have met you,
miss Grayling. I'll check with our pr man on that interview.
Be seeing you, Savvey. The tiers of seats were filled now,
(10:18):
and the central space all most clear officials were showing
off a few knots of lingerers. Several of the grand masters,
including all four Russians, were seated at their tables. Press
and Company cameras were flashing. The four smaller wallboards lit
up with the pieces in the opening position white for
white and red for black. Simon Grat stepped over the
(10:42):
red velvet cord and more flashed bulbs went off. You know,
Doc Sandra said, I'm a dog to suggest this, but
what if this whole thing were a big fake? What
if Simon Grat were really playing the machine's moves? There
would surely be some way for his electricians to rig.
Doc laughed happily and so loudly that some people at
(11:04):
the adjourning tables frowned. Miss Grayling. That is a wonderful idea.
I will probably steal it for a short story I
still manage to write and place a few in England. No,
I do not think that is at all likely. WBM
would never risk such a fraud. Bret is completely out
(11:25):
of practice for actual tournament play, though not for chess thinking.
The difference in style between a computer and a man
would be evident. To end the expert great zone style
is remembered and would be recognized. Though, come to think
of it, his style was often described as being machine like.
For a moment, Doc's eyes became thoughtful, then he smiled again.
(11:49):
But no, the idea is impossible. Vanderhoff, as tournament director,
has played two or three games with the machine to
assure himself that it operates legitimately and has grandmaster skill.
Did the machine beat him, Sandra asked, Doc shrugged. These
scores weren't released. It was all very hush hush. But
(12:10):
about your idea, miss Grayling, did you ever read about
Mozelle's famous chess playing automaton of the nineteenth century. That one,
too was supposed to work by machinery, cogs and gears,
not electricity, but actually it had a man hidden inside it.
Your Edgar Poe exposed the fraud in a famous article.
(12:32):
In my story, I think the chess robot will break
down while it is being demonstrated to a millionaire purchaser,
and the young inventor will have to win its game
for it to cover up and swing the deal. Only
the millionaire's daughter, who is really a better player than
either of them. Yes, yes, Ambrose Beers too wrote a
(12:53):
story about a chess playing robot of the clickety clank
gir kind who murdered his creator, rushing him like an
iron grizzly bear when the man won a game from him.
Tell me, miss Grayling, do you find yourself imagining this
machine putting out angry tendrils to strangle his opponents, or
(13:13):
being raised of death and hypnotism at them? I can imagine.
While Doc chatted happily on about chess playing robots and
chess stories, Sandra found herself thinking about him. A writer
of some sort, evidently, and a terrific chess buff. Perhaps
he was an actual medical doctor. She'd read something about
(13:36):
two or three coming over with the Russian squad. But
Doc certainly didn't sound like a Soviet citizen. He was
older than she'd first assumed. She could see now that
she was listening to him less and looking at him
more tired too. Only his dark circled eyes shone with
unquenchable youth. A useful old guy, whoever he was. An
(14:00):
hour ago, she'd been sure she was going to muff
this assignment completely, and now she had it laid out cold.
For the empteenth time in her career. Sandra shied away
from the guilty thought that she wasn't a writer at all,
or even a reporter. She just used dime a dozen
female attractiveness to rope a susceptible man, young, old American
(14:24):
Russian and pick his brain. She realized suddenly that the
whole hall had become very quiet. Doc was the only
person still talking, and people were again looking at them disapprovingly.
All five wallboards were lit up, and the changed position
of a few pieces showed that opening moves had been
(14:44):
made on four of them, including the machines. The central
space between the tiers of seats was completely clear now,
except for one man hurrying across it in their direction,
with a rapid yet quiet, almost tiptoe walk that seemed
to mark all the officials like Mortician's assistance, she thought.
(15:05):
He rapidly mounted the stairs and halted at the top
to look around searchingly. His cays like it on their table.
His eyebrows went up, and he made a beeline for Doc.
Sandra wondered if she should warn him that he was
about to be shushed. The official laid a hand on
Doc's shoulder, Sir, he said, agitatedly, do you realize they've
(15:27):
started your clock, Doctor Krakatower. Sandra became aware that Doc
was grinning at her. Yes, it's true enough, miss Greeling,
he said, I trust you will pardon the deception, though
it was hardly won. Even technically, every word I told
you about dirty old Krakatawer is literally true, except the
(15:49):
long white beard. He never wore a beard after he
was thirty five. That part was it out and outline. Yes, yes,
I will be along in a minute. Do not worry.
The spectators will get their money's worth out of me,
and WBM did not with its expense account. By my soul,
that belongs to the young lady here. Doc Rose lifted
(16:12):
her hand and kissed it. Thank you, mademoiselle, for a
charming interlude. I hope it will be repeated. Incidentally, I
should say that besides stop pulling at me, man, there
can't be five minutes on my clock yet that besides
being dirty Old Krakatawer, Grandmaster Emeritus, I am also the
(16:34):
special correspondent of the London Times. It is always pleasant
to chat with the colleague. Please do not hesitate to
use in your articles any of the ideas I tossed out,
if you find them worthy, I sent in my own
dispatch two hours ago. Yes, yes, I come Au revoir, mademoiselle.
(16:54):
He was at the bottom of the stairs when Sandrid
jumped up and hurried to the balustrade. Hey, doc, she called.
He turned good luck, she shouted and waved. He kissed
his hand to her and went on. People glared at
her then, and a horrified official came hurrying. Sandram made big,
(17:14):
frightened eyes at him, but she couldn't quite hide her grin.
End of Part two.
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