“Going to try for a rescue of the—body?” Jerry Newton looked up from fussing with one of the best small cameras on the market today. He had “got” that dramatic race with the flood, and he made no apologies for his enterprise. It was his business to get such scenes.
The Governor pressed his lips together and pointed downward.
“We’re going to save the living,” he said. “Where’s that doctor?”
A shrewd-eyed, tanned man was already feeling of Peter’s skull with finger tips that seemed to own a detached intelligence.
“Just a simple contusion,” he announced cheerfully. “Put you to sleep for a minute, though, didn’t it? Here. I’ll fix you up in two shakes so you’ll feel like new. Let’s have a look at your chest.”
In five minutes Peter was standing steadily on his own feet, ready to go. Rawley
