"Marian," I said. "MARIAN! HEY! MARIAN HARRISON!"
In the picture tube there was a stir, then she sat up and looked around
in a sort of daze.
"Marian, this is Steve Cornell, but don't--"
"Steve!"
"--cry out," I finished uselessly.
"Where are you?" she asked in a whisper.
"I'm in the con room."
"But how on Earth--?"
"No time to gab. I'll be down in a rush with the key. Get dressed!"
"Yes, Steve."
I took off in a headlong rush with the 'Hotel Register' in one hand. I
made the third floor and Marian's cell in slightly more than nothing
flat, but she was ready when I came barging into her room. She was out
of the cell before it hit the backstop and following me down the hall
towards her brother's room.
"What happened?" she asked breathlessly.
"Later," I told her. I opened Phillip Harrison's cell. "You go wake up
Fred Macklin and tell him to come here. Then get the Macklin
girl--Alice, it says here--and the pair of you wake up others and start
sending 'em up stairs. I'll call you on the telltale as soon as I can."
Marian took off with the key and the register and I started to shake
Phillip Harrison's shoulder. "Wake up!" I cried. "Wake up, Phillip!"
Phillip made a noise like a baby seal.
"Wake up!"
"Wha--?"
"It's Steve Cornell. Wake up!"
With a rough shake of his head, Phillip groaned and unwound himself out
of a tangle of bedclothing. He looked at me through half-closed glassy
eyes. Then he straightened and made a perilous course to the washstand
where he sopped a towel in cold water and applied it to his face, neck,
and shoulders. When he dropped the towel in the sink, his expression was
fresher and his eyes were mingled curiosity and amazement.
"What gives?" he asked, starting to dress in a hurry.
"I busted out, slugged Scholar Phelps, and took over the master control
room. I need help. We can't keep it long unless we move fast."
"Yeah man. Any moving will be fast," he said sourly. "Got any plans?"
"We've--"
The door opened to let Fred Macklin enter. He carried his shirt and had
been dressing on the run. "What goes on?" he asked.
"Look," I said quickly. "If I have to stop and give anybody a rundown,
we'll have no time to do what has to be done. There are a couple of
sources of danger. One is the guard down at the bottom of the stairway.
The other is the possible visitor. You get a couple of other young,
ambitious fellows and push that guard post over, but quick."
"Right. And you?"
"I've got to keep our hostage cold," I snapped. "And I'm running the
show by virtue of being the guy that managed to bust loose."
In the hallway there was movement, but I left it to head back to Scholar
Phelps. I got there in time to hear him groan and make scratching noises
on the carpet. I took no chances; I cooled him down with a short jab to
the pit of the stomach and doubled him over again.
He was sleeping painfully but soundlessly when Marian came in.