CAMPBELL KNEW WHAT had struck him. The thin, hard curve of the hook, more potent than the edge of any hand.
The point pricked his throat, just over the pulse on the left side. The man said softly: "Lie still, little man, and answer."
Campbell lay still. There was nothing else to do. He said, "I'm Thomas Black, if that helps. Who are you?"
"What did Tredrick tell you to do?"
"To get the hell out. What gives with you?" If that Taxil was spreading the word about him, he'd better hurry. Campbell decided to take a chance. The guy with the hook didn't seem to love Tredrick.
"The black boy in the radio room told me to come aboard and wait. Seems he's sore at Tredrick, too. So am I. That makes us all pals, doesn't it?"
"You lie, little man." The deep voice was quietly certain. "You were sent
