Page:Amazing Stories Volume 15 Number 10.djvu/117

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OW far down in this damned planet do you think the stuff might be, Cliff?"

Val Morrison asked the question. He sat folded up outside the tent wall, short pipe crackling between his big teeth. Six feet four, thin as a knife-blade, with a face like a pickaxe, he was possibly the toughest man in the whole outfit. He sat regarding Cliff Anderson now through his tiny, merry little dark eyes.

"Lord knows!" The chief engineer rubbed his big, stubby chin. "Doesn't matter much, anyway; these Martian guys who went before us did a whole lot of chiseling. We're down two thousand miles already—but no sign of anilum so far. Soon we'll hit Mars' core. Mebbe we'll find something before then."

"Yeah—we hope " Val drew at his pipe dubiously.

The sudden blare of signal sirens came from the depths. The whining din echoed through the reaches of the tunnels and shafts. The voices of the men at the head of the main shaft came forth in a murmur of sound.