ong gradually died down, and the
ceremony got under way.

Hanlon, who had taken his post at one corner of the platform, paid scant
attention to what was happening on it, as it neither interested him nor
could he understand too much of it, even though he knew quite a bit of
Greek. Again his eyes were busy continually looking all about the great
crowd and the surroundings.

Nothing of note occurred until the chairman began introducing Abrams,
and then hecklers in the crowd began shouting:

"Freedom for the Greeks of Simonides!"

"Empires are out of date; let the people rule!"

"Demos forever!"

These calls were few at first, but the men yelling them were
leather-lunged. The chairman's face turned reddish, and he wavered a bit
in his speech, then raised his own voice in an attempt to drown out the
interruptions.

Others were now crying out, though still only a few, but in spite of
their shouts the ceremonies continued, and Abrams, properly introduced,
rose and began his prepared speech.

Hanlon, more alert than ever, could see local police shoving through the
crowd, trying to apprehend and silence the hecklers. But from his
vantage point Hanlon saw the latter shifting rapidly from place to
place, partly to escape detection, he swiftly deduced, and partly to
make it seem as though more and more people were joining in the
demonstration.

In a side glance Hanlon saw that the Secretary was nettled at the
disturbance, and his color was high although he bravely continued
speaking. The great audience was largely paying attention to him, and
must have found him interesting, from their frequent cheers.

Suddenly, at one side, there seemed to be a more determined
demonstration, and Hanlon tore his gaze from it, remembering his
instructor's words:

"Disregard specific diversions in one spot! Let the police handle
those--you must watch most carefully then for assassins!"

Instantly he was more alert, more carefully scanning the whole scene
before him, his eyes travelling forth and back.

A glint of reflected sunlight from a nearby roof jerked his eyes upward,
and at what he saw, with one swift, smooth motion he drew his
blaster-sword, sighted carefully, and pressed the trigger.

There was a crack of flame, and a gunman half-hidden behind a chimney
screamed, half-rose, then, his body charred by the force of that blast,
toppled from the roof into the street below, his rifle falling near him.
Hanlon swivelled. "Cover A