"Lord!" gasped Bonwitt. "A motor! What can it drive?"
"You'll soon learn," said an oily voice at his shoulder.
The engineer wheeled to stare into Peterson's close-set, glittering eyes. Gates, saturnine, contemptuous, was with him.
"You go to Don Peel right away," the super told Bonwitt. "Crane goes with Gates. To see our ethertype."
"But—" Crane started to object.
"You'll go with Gates." Peterson fingered his strange weapon.
The two ethertype operators disappeared into a passage mouth.
"Who's Don Peel?" asked Bonwitt.
"The king—Gosak, they call him—a simpleton whom I've taught a little English. He's in the palm of my hand, though I handle him with gloves. I want you to play up to him."