Howlet suddenly looked dangerous. I gathered that he thought something of the boy, and was heating up to the door-smashing stage.
"Let's check one other place," I suggested, "before we make a mistake."
My starting off fast up the street left him the choice of coming quietly or staying to wonder. They both came. I could feel them watching me.
I turned right into a narrow street, went along it about fifty yards, and paused where it was crossed by a still narrower alley. Hoping I remembered the way, I groped along the lefthand branch of the alley. A trace of light had begun to soften the sky over the dome, but had not yet seeped down to ground level.
Howlet's soft footsteps trailed me. I knocked on what seemed to be the right door. There was no answer—only to be expected. I hammered again.
"No one aboard, it would appear," murmured Meadows.
It was meant as a question. I shrugged in the darkness and banged longer and louder. Finally, listening at the flimsy panel, I detected muffled footsteps.
The door opened a crack.
"It's Tony Lewis, Lilac."