here had been no alarm wire
along the top of the fence.

He moved from shadow to shadow, his hair prickling along the base of his
neck. Locating the right grave in the darkness was harder than he had
expected, even with an occasional brief use of the small flashlight. But
at last he found the marker that was serving until the regular monument
could arrive.

His hands were sweating so much that it was hard to use the small
shovel, but the digging of foxholes had given him experience and the
ground was still soft from the gravediggers' work. He stopped once, as
the Moon came out briefly. Again, a sound in the darkness above left him
hovering and sick in the hole. But it must have been only some animal.

He uncovered the top of the casket with hands already blistering.

Then he cursed as he realized the catches were near the bottom, making
his work even harder.

He reached them at last, fumbling them open. The metal top of the casket
seemed to be a dome of solid lead, and he had no room to maneuver, but
it began swinging up reluctantly, until he could feel the polished wood
of the coffin.

Dane reached for the lid with hands he could barely control. Fear was
thick in his throat now. What could an alien do to a man who discovered
it? Would it be Harding there--or some monstrous thing still changing?
How long did it take a revived monster to go mad when it found no way to
escape?

He gripped the shovel in one hand, working at the lid with the other.
Now, abruptly, his nerves steadied, as they had done whenever he was in
real battle. He swung the lid up and began groping for the camera.

His hand went into the silk-lined interior and found nothing! He was too
late. Either Harding had gotten out somehow before the final ceremony or
a confederate had already been here. The coffin was empty.

* * * * *

There were no warning sounds this time--only hands that slipped under
his arms and across his mouth, lifting him easily from the grave. A
match flared briefly and he was looking into the face of Buehl's chief
strong-arm man.

"Hello, Mr. Phillips. Promise to be quiet and we'll release you. Okay?"
At Dane's sickened nod, he gestured to the others. "Let him go. And,
Tom, better get that filled in. We don't want any trouble from this."

Surprise came from the grave a moment later. "Hey, Burke, there's no
corpse here!"

Burke's words killed any hopes Dane had at once. "So what? Ever hear