. "Frank Meggs. That crazy Frank Meggs! He's got a
mob together and fired the college buildings!"

In agony of spirit they crawled to the safety of the slope below the
brow of the hill. "We've got to go after Sheriff Johnson," said Ken.
"We've got to fight again; we've got to fight all over again!"

Dr. Larsen watched the fire in hypnotic fascination. "All gone," he
whispered. "Everything we've done; everything we've built. Our records,
our notes. There's nothing left at all."

They moved down the hill, cautioning others about the mob. Sheriff
Johnson was already starting up as they reached the bottom. Quickly,
they told him what they'd found at the top. "We shouldn't let the mob
get off the hill," said Ken. "If we do, we'll never know which ones took
part."

"There are as many down here who would like to be up there," said
Johnson. "You can be sure of that. We don't know who we can trust any
more. Get your science club boys together and find as many patrolmen as
possible. Ask each one to get fifteen men he thinks he can trust and
meet here an hour from now. If we can do it in that time we may stand a
chance of corralling them. Otherwise, we'll never have a chance at
them."

"We can try," said Ken.

By now, others had been fired upon and driven back, so that the
situation was apparent to everyone. A great many townspeople, most of
those well enough to leave their houses, were streaming toward College
Hill.

It would be futile to try to find the patrolmen at their own homes, Ken
knew. They'd be coming this way, too. He soon found Joe Walton and Al
Miner. They mingled in the crowd, calling out for other members of the
club. Within minutes, all but two had been found. Word was passed to
them to carry out the Sheriff's instructions.

It was easier than they anticipated. Within 20 minutes a dozen officers
had been given the word to find their men. At the end of the hour they
were gathered and ready for the advance.

The spectators had been driven back. The armed men fanned out to cover
the entire hill in a slowly advancing line. They dwindled and became
silhouettes against the flames.

At the top, Sheriff Johnson called out to the mob through an improvised
megaphone. "Give up your arms and come forward with your hands up!" he
cried. "In 10 seconds we start shooting!"

His command was answered by howls of derision. It was like the cries of
maniacs, and their drifted words sounded like, "Kill the scientists!"