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Serviss, Garrett P. (Garrett Putman), 1851-1929

"A Columbus of Space"

"Then let's give 'em a salute."
Edmund smiled and nodded his head:
"The guns are in the locker," he said.
Jack had one of the automatic rifles out in a hurry.
"Shoot high," said Edmund, "and off toward the open country. The
projectiles fly far, and I guess we can take the risk."
He threw both windows open, and Jack aimed skyward and began to pull the
trigger.
Bang! bang! bang! Heavens, what a noise it was! The car must have seemed
a flying volcano. And it woke them up! The sleeping city poured forth its
millions to gaze and wonder. Surely they had never heard such a
thundering. Within five minutes we saw them on the roofs and in the
towers. Many were staring at us through a kind of opera glasses which
they had. Then from a dozen aerial pavilions the colors broke forth and
quivered through the air.
"Saluting us!" exclaimed Jack, delighted.
"Asking one another questions, rather," said Edmund.
They certainly asked enough of them, and I wondered what answers they
returned.
"Probably they think we're off for good," said I.
"And aren't we?" asked Henry anxiously.
"Not yet," Edmund replied, and Henry's countenance fell.


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