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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

‘Bleak!’ Quartermain barked into his telephone

‘Cal?’

‘By God, they got the chess pieces that were sent from Italy the year Lincoln was shot Shrewd daht We must plan our counterattack I’ll call Gray’

‘Gray’s busy dying’

‘Christ, he’s always dying! We’ll have to do it ourselves’

‘Steady now, Cal They’re just chess pieces’

‘It’s what they signify, Bleak! This is a full rebellion’

‘We’ll buy new chess pieces’

‘Hell, Ito the dead Just be here I’ll call Gray andfor one more day’

Bleak laughed quietly

‘Why don’t we just chuck all those Bolshevik boys into a pot, boil them down to essence of kid?’

‘So long, Bleak!’

He rang off and called Gray The line was busy He slaain Listening to the signal, he heard the tapping of tree branches on the , faintly, far away

My God, Quarterht