"Damn it," Morrison said. "I was going to save that bullet for myself."
It gave him a moment's grace. He ran down the ravine, looking for an opening in its sides. Goldenstone glowed at him and sparkled red and purple. And the sandwolves loped along behind him.
Then Morrison stopped. In front of him, the curving ravine ended in a sheer wall.
He put his back against it, holding the revolver by its butt. The wolves stopped five feet from him, gathering themselves for a rush. There were ten or twelve of them, and they were packed three deep in the narrow pass. Overhead, the kites circled, waiting for their turn.
At that moment, Morrison heard the crackling sound of 'porting equipment. A whirlpool appeared above the wolves' heads and they backed hastily away.
"Just in time!" Morrison said.
"In time for what?" asked Williams 4, the postman.
The robot climbed out of the vortex and looked around.
"Well, young man," Williams 4 said, "this is a fine fix you've gotten yourself into. Didn't I warn you? Didn't I advise you to turn back? And now look!"
"You were perfectly right," Morrison said. "What did Max Krandall send me?"