round beneath the feet of the men at the gate. Captain Taylor
threw himself on the ground. But there was no blast.

The red of the sky-glow suddenly faded to orange. Up through the
roof of the casting room crashed a huge, glowing sphere then
floated like a will-o'-the wisp in the moonlight.

CHAPTER II

THE SPHERES

When the sentry faced the captain again, he stared into the mouth
of a service pistol.

"Sorry," said the officer, "but I've got to get inside." Captain
Taylor turned to Masters. "Keep him covered. I'll be back unless
the bomb goes off."

"The bomb," whispered Norden, fearfully, "should have exploded. I
was double-crossed. They sent me here to get caught! The dirty--"

"Watch Norden, and you might keep your eye on Funky, here,"
Taylor said, pointing to the slobbering man who had dropped to
his knees at the sight of the orange sphere. "I'm going inside."

The captain moved through the gate. The silence was uncanny.
Since the war began this factory had never been idle. Thousands
of cannon made; contracts for countless more! But now quiet, save
for an undescribable, whispering overtone that seemed to permeate
the air.

Something glowed in the semi-darkness ahead like a pile of hot
ashes on the ground.

Taylor entered the long forge room. A white hot splinter of metal
hung from the crane. There were a dozen heaps of the glowing
ashes scattered about the room, but no sign of life.

He moved on into the finishing room, where the long tubes of
howitzers and field pieces lay in various stages of construction.
Still there was silence.

The whispering grew louder, like a breeze stirring dry cornstalks.

The silence suddenly was broken by a scream. Then another. There
was a sound of running footsteps.

Taylor dropped behind a lathe.

Through the door came an orange glow. Sharply outlined against
the eerie light ran a human figure, a man in overalls, carrying a
hammer. On the fellow's face was frozen fear. He halted, turned
and looked behind him.

The darkness vanished as through the doorway floated a huge,
orange sphere of light.

"Stop! Go back! I mean you no harm!" screamed the workman.

The ball of orange fire floated on toward him. The man's arm
raised. He hurled the hammer straight at the sphere.

The missile rang, bounced back and fell to the sandy floor.

A small flicker of flame wafted over the surface of the sphere.
Then it lashed out like a whip toward the trembling man. Hi