Neil Hardesty peered anxiously at the chronometer on his wrist. He
said, "Almost midnight. Brian, are you sure it was--?"
"Positive!" said Brian Shaughnessey stubbornly. "It was Dirk Morris,
Neil. You've got to believe me. I know how it sounds. Crazy. But it was
him."
"You didn't _see_ him," reminded Hardesty gently. "You were under great
stress. It might have been an hallucination, you know."
"Was that explosion," demanded Shaughnessey, "imagination? It blew the
warehouse plumb from here to Tophet. If I'd been within five hundred
yards, I'd have been blown to a bunch of rags. It was him, Neil. I'd
know his voice any time, any place."