bright bursts of pain along his arms. He was shaking uncontrollably with shock, sweat pouring from his face, and he was laughing wildly.
'He's a bit bloody late,' he repeated through his hysterical laughter, as Doctor Dan Stander pushed the hypodermic needle into his arm and shot him full of morphine.
Hurry Hirschfelctstood in the main haulage on 66 level. There , was bustle all around him. Already the crews from the cementation company were manhandling their equipment up towards the blocked drive.
These were specialists from an independent contracting company. They were about to begin pumping thousands of tons of liquid cement into the rock jam that sealed the drive. They would pump it in at pressures in excess of 3,000 pounds per square inch, and when that concrete set it would form a plug that would effectively seal off the drive for all time. It would also form a burial vault for the body of Big King, thought Hurry, a fitting monument to the man who had saved the Sander He would arrange to have a commemorative plaque placed on the outer wall of the cement plug with a suitable inscription describing the man and the deed.
The man's dependents must be properly taken care of-, perhaps they could be flown down for the unveiling of the plaque. Anyway he could leave that to Public Relations and Personnel.
The haulage stank of wetness and mud. It was dank and clammy cool, and it would not improve his lumbago. Hurry had seen enough; he started back towards the shaft. Faintly he was aware of the muted clangour of the mighty pumps which in a few days would free the Sander Ditch of the water that filled her lower levels.
The laden stretchers with their grisly blanket-covered burdens stood in a row under the hastily rigged electric lights along one wall of the tunnel. Hurry's expression hardened as he passed them.
'I'll have the guts of the man responsible for this,' he vowed silently as he waited for the cage.
Terry Steyner rode in the rear of the ambulance with Rod.
She wiped the mud from his face.
'How bad is it, Dan?' she asked.
'Hell, Terry, he'll be up and about in a few days. The arms of course are not very pretty, that's why I'm taking him directly to Johannesburg. I want a specialist orthopaedic surgeon to set them.
Apart from that he is suffering from shock pretty badly and his hands are superficially lacerated. But he will be fine.' Dan watched curiously as Terry fussed ineffectually with the damp hair of the drugged man.
'You want a smoke?' he asked.
'Light me one, please Dan.' He passed her the cigarette.
'I didn't know that you and Rod were so friendly,' he ventured.
Terry looked up at him quickly.
'How very delicate you are, Doctor Stander,' she mocked him.
'None of my business, of course.' Hurriedly Dan withdrew.
'Don't be silly, Dan. You're a good friend of Rod's and joy is mine.
You two are entitled to know. I am desperately, crazily in love with this big hunk. I intend divorcing Manfred just as soon as possible.'
'Is Rod going to marry you?'
'He hasn't said anything about marriage but I'll sure as hell start working on him,' Terry grinned, and Dan laughed.
'Good luck to you both, then. I'm sure Rod will be able to get another job.' 'What do you mean? 'Terry demanded.
'They say your grandfather is threatening to fire him so high he'll be the first man on the moon.' Terry relapsed into silence. Proof was what Pops had asked for, but what proof was there?
'They'll be waiting 4 X-ray reports.' joy Albright gave her opinion.
Since her engagement to Dan, joy had suddenly become something of a medical expert. She had rushed down to the Johannesburg Central Hospital at Dan's hurried telephonic request. Dan wanted her to keep Terry company while she waited for Rod to come out of emergency. They sat together in the waiting- room.
'I expect so,' Terry agreed. Something joy had just said had jotted in her mind, something she must remember.
'It takes them twenty minutes or so to expose the plates and develop them. Then the radiologist has to examine the plates and make his report to the surgeon.' There, joy had said it again. Terry sat up straight and concentrated on what joy had said. Which word had disturbed her?
Suddenly she had it.
'The repord' she exclaimed. 'That's it. The report, that's the proof.' She leapt out of her chair.
'Joy! Give me the keys of your car,' she demanded.
'What on earth? 'Joy looked startled.
'I can't explain now. I have to get home to Sandown urgently, give me your keys. I'll explain later.' joy fished in her handbag and produced a leather key folder. Terry snatched it from her.
'Where are you parked? 'Terry demanded.
'In the car park, near the main gate.'
'Thanks, joy.' Terry dashed from the waiting-room, her high heels clattered down the passage.
'Crazy woman. 'Joy looked after her bewildered.
Ten minutes later Dan looked into the waiting-room.
'Rod's fine now. Where's Terry?'
'She went mad-' And joy explained her abrupt departure. Dan looked grave.
'I think we'd better follow her, joy.'
'I think you're right, darling.' 'I'll just grab my coat,' said Dan.
There was only one place where Manfred would keep the geological report on the Big Dipper that Rod had told her about. That was in the safe deposit behind the panelling in his study. Because her jewellery was kept in the same safe, Terry had a key and the combination to the lock.
Even in joy's Alfa Romeo, taking liberties with the traffic regulations, it was a thirty-five- minute drive out to Sandown. It was after five in the evening when Terry coasted down the long driveway and parked before the garages.
The extensive grounds were deserted, for the gardeners finished at five, and there was no sign of life from the house.
This was as it should be, for she knew Manfred was still in Europe. He was not due back for at least another four days.
Leaving the ignition keys in the Alfa, Terry ran up the pathway and onto the stoep. She fumbled in her handbag and found the keys to the front door. She let herself in, and went directly to Manfred's study.
She slid the concealing panel aside and set about the lengthy business of opening the steel safe. It required both key and combination to activate the mechanism, and Terry had never developed much expertise at tumbling the combination.
Finally, however, the door swung open and she was confronted by the voluminous contents. Terry began removing the various documents and files, examining each one and then stacking them neatly on the floor beside her.
She had no idea of the shape, size nor colour of the report for which she was searching, it was ten minutes before she selected an unmarked folder and flicked open the cover. 'Confidential Report on the geological formations of the Kitchenerville gold fields, with special reference to those areas lying to the east of the Big Dipper Dyke.'
Terry felt a wonderful lift of relief as she read the titling for she had begun douting that the report was here.
Quickly she thumbed through the pages and began reading at random.
There was 'no doubt.
'This is it!' she exclaimed aloud.
'I'll take that, thank you.' The dreaded familiar voice cut into her preoccupation, and Terry spun around and came to her feet in one movement, clutching the file protectively to her breast. She backed away from the man who stood in the doorway.
She hardly recognized her own husband. She had never seen him like this. Manfred was coat less and his shirt was without collar or stud.
He appeared to have slept in his trousers, for they were rumpled and baggy. There was a yellow stain down the front of his white shirt.
His scanty brown hair was dishevelled, hanging forward wispily onto his forehead. He had not shaved, and the skin around his eyes was discoloured and puffy.
'Give that to me.' He came towards her with hand outstretched.
'Manfred.' She kept moving away from him. 'What are you doing here?
When did you get back?'
'Give it to me, you slut.' 'Why do you call me that?' she asked, trying for time.
'Slut!' he repeated, and lunged towards her. Terry whirled away from him lightly.
She ran for the study door, with Manfred close behind her. She beat him into the passage and raced for the front door. Her heel caught in one of the Persian carpets that covered the floor of the passage, and she staggered and fell against the wall.
'Whore! He was on her instantly trying to wrestle the report out of her hands, but she clung to it with all her strength. Face to face they were almost of a height, and she saw the madness in his eyes.
