,
then swiftly dissolved and vanished under the ray of a small
disintegrator gun on the liner.

Teutoberg smiled crookedly.

The door clicked behind him. Teutoberg turned with a startled oath.
Winford, foul with grime and his clothing torn to rags, stood there.
Teutoberg's eyes widened. Both hands leaped downward for the holstered
pistols in his belt. At that instant Winford lunged for him.

One of Teutoberg's hands was now gripping a pistol. Winford struck
frenziedly, knocking it from Teutoberg's grasp. The weapon slid under
the chart table out of reach. Winford clutched Teutoberg's left hand
which held the still holstered pistol.

Suddenly he saw an advantage, and his heart leaped in exultation. Round
behind Teutoberg he pivoted--a wrestling trick he had learned as a boy.
For an instant they stood back to back. Then with a mighty effort
Winford heaved upward relentlessly on his opponent's forearm.

Teutoberg screamed in pain as something snapped in his wrist. The pistol
dropped from his nerveless fingers. Winford flicked it out of reach
under the table with his toe, but had no chance to reach for it, because
Teutoberg had managed to work himself free.

With a bellow of animal rage and with arms flailing like wind-mills he
charged at Winford again. Winford met his rush with a rapid series of
blows and Teutoberg went down. But up he came, a wild light in his eyes.
Again he went down, only to struggle gamely to his feet once more.

Winford was gasping for breath. It amazed him that Teutoberg could
endure so much punishment. His arm must be broken and he was terribly
battered, yet here he came staggering back for more. Winford now hunched
down and, like a crouching animal, advanced slowly toward his enemy.
Suddenly he started a right almost from the deck straight for
Teutoberg's chin. It connected. Teutoberg was lifted clear of the deck
and hurled unconscious against the side of the control room six feet
away.

Winford staggered to the communication board and his trembling fingers
clutched the air-lock phone.

"Hello, hello!" he gasped. "Teutoberg speaking. Send no more marines out
through the lock just now.... Yes, of course this is Teutoberg."

He hung the instrument back on its hook and clung dizzily to the edge of
the table. At least the slaughter was halted for the time being.

* * * * *

He would have to act fast. He caught up the big water pitcher from the
holder on the