were all down. The Mercurian mob
was closing in, the Terrestrians' rays had lost half their range. In
moments now the ray-guns would be exhausted.

"The plane!" Darl shouted. "Back to the plane, it's our only chance."

The gyrocopter that could carry them aloft, out of the rout, was fifty
feet away. They fought through to it and reached it just as the last
faint charge flashed from Mac's tube. Jim was at the controls, Darl
smashed his useless projector into the chattering face of a dwarf that
had leaped on the Scot's shoulders and dragged Angus into the cockpit.

The overloaded flier zoomed to the landing at the lofty air-lock's
manhole and hovered as Darl and Angus slipped home the hooks that held
it to the platform. "The spy has the Dome," Jim grunted, "but by God,
he hasn't got us. We'll be safe in the lock up here, till help comes.
And then--"

"Safe is it?" Angus broke in. "Mon, luik ye what those bairns fra hell
are up to the noo."

A yellow tide was rising about the base of each of the latticed steel
arches that vaulted to the Earthmen's refuge. On every side the dwarfs
were climbing, were swarming up the walls in numbers so great that
they concealed the metal beneath. Up, up they came, slowly but surely.
And right in the center of the plain, ankle-deep in the torn fragments
of the murdered Venusians, was the Martian, directing the attack.

* * * * *

Jim groaned. "I might've known he'd never let us get away. It's slow
bells for us, I guess. Hey, where's Darl?"

"Gone weethin. No, guid losh, he's here!"

Darl appeared, his features pale and drawn, carrying an armful of
ray-guns. "Grab these," he snapped. "We're not licked yet."

"Licked, hell!" Jim's roar reverberated. "We've just begun to fight!"
The Scot was silent, but the battle light shone in his eyes. In
another moment the Terrestrians were kneeling, were raking the roof
girders as the mounting Mercurians came within range. Each had two
ray-guns in his hands, and a little pile of extra tubes beside him.
They fought silently, wasting not a single blast.

Six white rays flamed through the misty, humid air, and striking the
teeming girders, swept them clean. A greasy, horrible smoke cloud
gathered along the shell and drifted slowly down, till the concrete
blocks from which the steel framework sprang were hidden in a black
pall. Fighters, these three, true ITA men who had left memories of
their battle-prowess on more